Split Lightning
by NotWithoutHaste
Summary: Light Yagami, News Anchor. L, Meth cook and dealer. Misa, actress, betrothed. Kiyomi, business woman and underground fighting champion. Mello, theif. Near, clinically insane child. Naomi, FBI agent. Matt, hacker. Eight people, totally unconnected until one day their minds are joined, and their thoughts, feelings, experiences, are no longer, just their own... (Sense8 inspired au)
1. Who, Where, What

_A/N: Welcome to my new story, Split Lighting! I'm planning on updating it about once a week so please sit back and enjoy!_

 _Disclaimer: I own nothing from Death Note._

* * *

It hurt, oh god it hurt. The pain ran up my spine and through my sense's plowing invisible pointed fangs into my body; injecting a venom that spread like wildfire, burning and shredding my sense's. I felt them, my cell, but I couldn't, everything was a haze. Where are they? I need them, I've been connected to long to lose that. It was like limbs were being cut off from me, minds I'd been connected with fading into nothing but a disparate static.

How could I feel so hot and so cold? The church was nothing more than a pile of soon-to-be rubble, the walls only half standing, stain-glass windows long since shattered by street rats and the rage of the elements. It was cold, to cold to be outside, exposed like this, in nothing but a thin shirt. I felt all the cold but my insides were fire and brimstone, hell sparking and growing within me, burning from within.

I sobbed, tears stinging my eyes. How could it hurt this much? I thought I'd become desensitised to pain, agony even. How long had I been running? A month? Two? Every safe house's door was broken in with booted feet and every time I ran they'd be on my tail like starving wolves, their guns growling and spitting bullets. I think there was one still lodged in my thigh, it was hard to tell anymore.

I felt the gun, that solid metal beast, sitting against my thigh, it's cold metal insignificant against the burning within. I want to use it, damn it, I just want to end it now.

I felt around for 'the package', barely bigger than a shoebox.

Found it, searched for the latch.

Click.

Open.

I fumbled around with it's contents, my increasingly blurry vision making it difficult to work. I pulled the syringe out, searched my arm for a vein, god this was going to hurt, maybe even more than the burning.

I jabbed it in.

I howled.

I sobbed, I didn't think I had any more tears, but apparently the pain drew them out.

'God, oh my god…'

I could see them, for a moment our connections were amplified, the tethers I'd barely begun to knot pulled tight.

They were there. I could see them, my cell, the people I would have mentored, should have mentored, helped, connected to, become one with.

The first one came into view, where was he, what did he think?

Who? Where? What? Who? Where? What?

 _..._

 _Last time I get these two on the show, fucking Tweedle Dee and Tweedle Dum over here. Apparently they didn't actually hear me in the pre-interview when I said this was meant to be a friendly interview. And it's hot under these lights too, hasn't anyone in this damn organisation ever heard of a cup of water? Maybe I should ask for one? No, I can't interrupt this "very important debate" that they're having, I wonder what the hell they're even talking about?_

 _'-Carrie is a very funny woman, but she has less faith in American individualism than I do.'_

 _That's Hugh for you, ha, that rhymed, Jesus I'm bored. He's more arrogant than he is Republican, and that's saying a lot considering he was 'born and bread in Sweet Home Alabama' where the skies are as blue as their voters are red._

 _'Hang on, I have plenty of- When did I ever express any lack of faith? I didn't say and never said that Barack Obama was a socialist.'_

 _And that's Carrie for you, almost as much of quasi-socialist as she is a closet lesbian. Because of course, who doesn't know? It's the secret that everybody knows but nobody says. Honestly doesn't she realise that Hugh brings up the socialist card just because he knows he'll get a reaction?_

 _'Seriously?' Hugh said. 'The policies are- look up the definition, my friend- they're socialist.'_

 _God If I could wipe that smug look for his stupid face._

 _'By your definition, so were Ronald Reagan's.'_

 _'What do you think taxes are? That was the last great president.'_

 _'American individualism can't build roads.'_

 _I should probably butt in, Jesus, who knows anymore, I think everyone stopped listening when these two managed to turn the eight O'Clock broadcast into another round of 'CrossFire'._

 _'We're out of time.' My editor whispered in my ear, via the radio_

 _'And I'm sorry we're out of time' I said, mercifully shutting those two up. 'Thank you to Carrie and Hugh for appearing on the show. Up next we have Josh Lowe on 'Capital Beat'. I'm Light Yagami, you've been watching ECN, good night America.'_

...

Light.

That was that man's name. Light. Light Yagami. He was in New York. I watched him on the news sometimes. He's that News Anchor for ECN, what did it stand for again? Oh who cares, not me, I'm dying. Light, very personable if a bit tepid. Apparently his thoughts are not so agreeable…

'God Damn!' I bellowed, another spike of pain shooting up my spine.

That would be the serum shredding my synaptic nerves as we speak, and for a moment there I almost got to have a pleasant thought. No time for self-pity, maybe there'll be room for it when I'm dead. Focus, focus, onto the next one, where are they, who are they, what are they feeling?

 _'Ray…'_

A voice whispered still far off but they were getting closer, ever closer. I had to be done by the time they arrived, because if I wasn't then they would be doomed.

Damn it.

Another spike of pain, the leg this time, the left one, that's worrying, the right side of my brain is already starting to act up, I have minutes left at the most. Focus, damn it, focus. The next one, who, where, what? Who, where, what?

 _..._

 _'Tamaki-senpai, please leave me alone, I'm trying to do my homework.'_

 _'Haruhi, this is no time for homework.'_

 _His words were warm but chill ran up my spine as he spoke._

 _'Look I'm sorry but…'_

 _What was that, wind? But we're inside, god it's cold, when did that happen? The AC was up last time I checked…_

 _My line! Oh dear, what was it, oh bother, I'm completely lost now._

 _'Cut!' Came a voice from behind._

 _The director, all T-shirts and unshaved chin, came marching up to me waving the script in hand much the same way old people wave their walking sticks around in cartoons. I wanted to laugh but held it back, how many times had I screwed up the take? Ten, twelve times, and we only have three days left of principle photography as well, oh he's going to be so mad._

 _'Misa what was that?'_

 _I pulled my cutest face, eyes wide. Check. Hand's by face. Check. Let my hair flop into my eyes and then correct it as quickly as possible. Che- oh, damn this stupid wig, it makes me look like a boy, but I suppose that's the whole point really…_

 _'I'm sorry, I'm sorry.'_

 _He didn't look impressed._

 _Oh course not, that trick only works if I do all the little things, this stupid wig wrecked my get out of jail free card. Stupid, stupid, thing, this is the last time I do a Romantic comedy, no matter what, even if I get offered a role in a franchise as big as this one I'll still turn it down._

 _'Sorry doesn't slow down time.' Director Kageyema snapped. 'We're on a schedule Misa, we have to get this take done today.'_

 _'Ok, ok, I promise I'll get it this time.'_

 _'Good, from "Tamaki-Senpai, please…" Ok folks, action.'_

 _Back into character. Who am I? Haruhi Fugioka. What is my goal? To do my homework. What is my obstacle? Tamaki Suoh, played by the excellent Tomo Ikuta, looking dashing as ever might I add… No Misa, you really can't be thinking about that, you're engaged, you have a man, stop perving!_

 _Ok, focus on the performance. How is Haruhi going too…_

 _What? There's a man over there, in rags. God is that blood, is he ok? Where'd he come from? It's cold again, can anyone do anything right around here? First the AC then a bum stumbles in… oh, where'd he go?_

 _'Cut!'_

 _'What?' I said, confused._

 _'Misa, you have the first line.'_

 _'Oh my goodness, sorry-'_

...

Connection two made, I have to move quickly now, if that roaring headache is anything to go by I'm deteriorating quicker than I expected. But that girl, what was her name? Misa. She picked up very quickly, no practice and her skills are already strong enough to feel what I'm feeling and get projected images of me into her reality.

 _'Ray, you can't run forever Ray.'_

The voice was less distant now, not so much a whisper on the wind as an echo down a tunnel. Couldn't be far off now, I have to do this.

'God!' I shouted.

I gripped at the nearest item I could find, the empty syringe.

It cracked in my hands and the glass shards pieced my skin, drawing warm blood in a second.

How many times had I bleed in the last month? My last month? To many to count. All I smelt of was blood, sweat, and mud, God if I could have any dying request it would be a shower. Warm water running over my back making my wounds flare before going numb and all the while every speck of dirt would be washed away. At least then I wouldn't die smelling like gutter mud.

It's the simple things really.

Another surge of pain, a cruel reminder that time was short.

Who, where, what? Who, where, what?

 _..._

 _Dirt._

 _Everything is Desert Shores is covered in dirt, dust, and sand. This whole settlement, it does not, in my opinion, meet the qualifications for the word 'town', is grimy and uncleaned. You're always covered in a layer of dirt, from when you wake up to when you go to sleep. You shower, it doesn't clean you, just washes all that dirt back down to the base layer._

 _Focus._

 _I moved around the lab, precise and methodical in manner. Add so much of this and so much of that, brewing a chemical mixture that is addictive as it is destructive. I have a PH.D in Chemistry, I was a professor as Harvard, how'd I end up in the back end of California, living out of a caravan, brewing meth. The answer, I don't exactly know. But here I am._

 _'L?'_

 _I sigh._

 _Aiber. One of my partners. Partner, by technicality alone. What were his skills again? Shooting things I believe. I'm the one cooking the meth._

 _'Yes? I am preoccupied so make it quick.'_

 _'When will it be ready?' He demanded._

 _'When it is ready. Patience.'_

...

Good lord, a meth cook? And what kind of name is L? God damn this hurts.

My vision was starting to blur, the shard of strain glass windows becoming a smear of colour. My body was starting to shut down, slipping into unconsciousness and then into a coma. I can't let that happen, if I do then they're all going to be in danger, more than they already are.

 _'Be brave my warrior.'_ A sweet voice whispered.

'Ariadne?'

 _'I'm here.'_

'I hurts.'

 _'I know, but be strong, they need you.'_

My hands beginning to shake, my sense's going numb.

No I have to finish this, there's still five of them out there, the connection isn't complete. I have to close the loop, seperate the cell, then they'll have a chance.

There was Lightning in my veins, vicious and biting, spiking and hurting, thank god they're not fully synchronised yet, otherwise they might be feeling this.

Focus Ray, focus, cut through the pain, they need you.

Who? Where? What? Who? Where? What?

 _..._

 _Type the email, check the email, send the email._

 _Another life ruined, the cooperation saved._

 _Click._

 _Open the file, check the names, check their emails._

 _Begin to compose,_

 _'Sorry Mrs-Widow, but unfortunately your insurance does not cover 'unfortunate event' because we're back stabbing, good for nothing, greasy business men and this is how the world actually works.'_

 _Type the email, check the email, send the email._

 _The title "Business Executive" evokes images of board meetings, managing, and company paid trips around the world. And certainly there was that aspect. But really it was mostly just this, cleaning up the mess your bosses and subordinates make, ruining lives, and keeping a low profile. "Never put a mess on display" was fathers motto, and so because my job is wade through the mess, so too was I destined to stick to the shadows._

 _How many lives had I ruined, through these emails, through back door deals with the faces of faceless cooperations? Probably more than I'd like to count. I tried to picture them occasionally, but I never could really manage it._

 _"Strong tolerance for guilt."_

 _They should add that to 'required skills' on job applications, not that I had to apply. Philanthropy, that's how I got here. Father is the big boss, so who better than his obedient daughter then to play the obedient guard dog. Most of the time I'm invisible but when he needs someone to bark I bark, and when he needs someone to be bitten I bite. Hard. I get his dirty work, he takes the spotlight while I slink in the shadows, making the deals that all companies deny making._

 _I tightened my hand into a fist._

 _God how I'd rather be in the ring right now, what if I'd pursued that life professionally from day one, rather than fucking around pretending I had a place in business? My body itched to beat down some opponent in the ring. I wanted to be covered in sweat, bruised and bleeding, the crowd roaring, that got my heart beating, not this. The crowd would roar as I landed the finished blow, and once again Kiyomi Tadaka would come out victorious._

 _But I'm in the office, not in the ring, God I have a match in three days but it feels like a thousand lifetimes, and that itch to fight needs to be scratched._

 _Type the email, check the email, send the email._

...

God damn I wish I could just die now! The pain, oh Jesus, the god damn pain. There wasn't lightning in my veins anymore it was all through me, striking at my muscle, at my bones, pure unadulterated pain. It was becoming hard to breath, my lungs were giving out, my body convulsing.

 _'Ray, stop fighting Ray.'_

The echo is closer, minutes away.

I have to be fast, I can't succumb. Not yet.

I reached out to the box with one of my hands. It covered in dried blood that could have been from yesterday or two weeks ago, I honestly can't tell anymore. I tried to pull the second syringe out but it was becoming difficult to focus, the smooth glass kept slipping out of my grip.

A dark hand was placed firmly over the top of mine, Ariadne. Sometimes I forgot that she wasn't actually there with me, she was probably on the other side of the world, but she felt so close, so real.

This was real.

We shared our thoughts, our feelings, our hearts, we experienced each others lives. No not each others, ours, because that's what it means to be a Sensate, your mind is bound to others, your life is not your own.

 _'Ray.'_ She said. _'Be strong.'_

Her hand wrapped around mine, guided me in picking up the syringe. She then led it to my arm, forced the tip into my skin, aided my in injecting the adrenaline.

My vision cleared, the pain numbed a little, enough to focus.

Focus.

Who? Where? What? Who? Where? What?

 _..._

 _The slot opened, a small panel of red wood pulled aside to reveal a pair of startling green eyes. Every time I saw those eyes I was taken aback. They were so powerful and piercing, like the eyes of god, they saw all._

 _Fucking scary._

 _It was like their owner could see straight through me, I hoped not, he wouldn't fucking approve of what I'm about to do._

 _'Father.' I said._

 _'Mihael.' Father Conrad replied._

 _'Mello.' I corrected him._

 _'I knew you when you were Mihael.'_

 _I gripped my rosary a little tighter. How could I be a fucking catholic and do what I was about to go and bloody do? Who fucking knows, not me, I just do it, and hope that the Lord can Forgive._

 _'I have come seeking the Sacrament of Reconciliation for sins I am going to commit.' I said._

 _'That's not how this works Mihael.'_

 _I fucking know that you old twat. I'm here on every Sunday I can manage, you've known me since I was fucking born, you don't need to tell me how this fucking works._

 _'I know, but I may not get another chance.' I replied._

 _'Why not?'_

 _'I may not be back again.'_

 _'Why?'_

 _'Because of the sins I'm going to commit.'_

...

I gasped, my lungs making a long desperate plea for air. My head hurt so much, God how can someone feel this much pain, are the others feeling it too, or is it just me? My senses were being shredded, the cost of rapid amplification, I can connect with them quickly, Light, Misa, L, Kiyomi, this Mello or Mihael person, and the others. I can seal the loop, isolate them, but it costs my mind. This pain is a price for their safety.

 _'Stop running Ray.'_

That echo was dangerously close now.

I don't have time for pain.

I don't for suffering.

I don't have time for self pity.

I just don't have time.

 _'Ray.'_ Ariadne said.

 _'Stop.'_ Called the echo.

 _'Focus.'_ Ariadne said.

Focus.

These people, they need me, only three left. I looked out of the broken ceiling and at the stars. They twinkled and glimmered, jewels cast onto an everlasting see of darkness. They were calming, I was so small, my pain so insignificant. I could push through and do this for them.

Who? Where? What? Who? Where? What?

 _..._

 _White._

 _Stack the white dominoes them on the white floor. Stack them with my white hands. Use the white hands to push my white hair out of my eyes. Pull the white sleeve of my shirt back from my white hands. Pick up another white domino. Look at it closely. How the black dots stand out so much against my white world. White dominoes, white skin, white clothes, white floor, white walls, white room._

 _The door moaned as it was pushed open behind me._

 _I turned._

 _Two people wearing white lab coats, not pyjama's like me, but white none the less. They pushed open the metal door, that was grey, along with the black dots on the dominos it was the only break in my white world. Hard, cold, grey, metal._

 _'And this is patient 273.' The older man with a face like shrivelled fruit said to his younger associate, probably new. 'His name is Nate Reka. But we just call him Near.'_

 _'Why?' The associate, a woman, asked._

 _'Near.' He said, addressing me. 'Say something.'_

 _'Near.' I said._

 _No. I meant "no" but near came out. It was no surprise, it always happened, but it was still disappointing every time. I'm a genius, twelve years old and I already understood university level concepts. I can recite Pi to one thousand places, recreate an image perfectly from a glance, figure out that the older Doctor slept on the couch again and that the younger one went out drinking last night and had vodka. But all I can say is near, one word._

 _White._

 _Monochrome._

 _Singular._

 _My world is like me._

 _All I can say is near._

 _'I see.' The woman said, so fascinated by me that she didn't even notice that the Doctor was staring at her figure. 'He's a cute little kid.'_

 _'And completely insane. Come on, we have more patients to examine.'_

 _I'm not insane, I'm perfectly sane, I just can't tell you. All I can say is near._

 _The left, the door closed behind them._

 _I was alone again in my white room._

...

A thousand fiery needles pierced my skin, burning through me, spikes of pure pain. I have to push on, for these people, for that kid. What was his name, Nate something? It sounded European. He was strange at any rate, I wonder what happened to him- God damn!

 _'It hurts doesn't it Ray?'_

No, that voice is so close now, just over my shoulder. I looked. It was there.

That thing, that monster.

Not human, not by any rate.

And that smile, oh god, it's horrifying.

I just want it out of my head, please, I need him out of my head.

 _'Just give in Ray.'_

I looked away, to Ariadne. She was there too. Her face round and kind, eyes a brilliant blue like the sky on a summers day. She was beautiful.

 _'You have to keep going Ray.'_ She said.

'I can't.'

 _'You have to, for them. Be brave, be my warrior.'_

She placed a gentle hand on my cheek. It was a phantom hand, there and not there, it felt so real. Even now, after years being connected, I still can't believe how real it fees. She's in my mind, in reality she's somewhere else, on another side of the world hopefully, but my senses tell me she's here. My heart beats faster as her hand meets my bruised and bloody skin, my body reacts, but she's not here.

Focus.

Who? Where? What? Who? Where? What?

 _..._

 _'Naomi Pember?'_

 _'That's right.'_

 _'I'm your new partner, Eric Cliff.'_

 _The man, my partner I suppose, held out his hand._

 _I took it, shook it._

 _This man, Eric, didn't look a day over twenty five, his generic face was clean shaven. Everything about him, his features, his voice, his posture, completely failed to have an impact on me. He was generic in every sense of the word, someone who failed to be either good looking and ugly._

 _Plain I suppose, like vanilla ice cream._

 _'New?'_

 _'Straight out of training.'_

 _Great, a green, just what the Doctor didn't order._

 _I'd ask why the universe hates me, but I know for a fact that it doesn't. It just acts of it's own will, the original force of nature. It gives and takes what it desires, sometimes you gain, sometimes you lose, things, hope, the people you care about…_

 _'What brought you to the FBI?' I asked Eric._

 _'I just wanna do the right thing by people.'_

 _Well go join the Red Cross. The first thing you learn at the FBI is that you can never to do right by 'people', you always have to cross someone to get the job done. Someone will always end up worse off, in prison, or dead. It's just how it works. You hope it's never you. You hope it's never someone you care about._

...

Naomi.

My Naomi.

I glanced at my ring finger. There was a band of pale skin where the ring should have been. But it was gone, sold, battered away for some food and a roof for a night.

There was so much sadness in her heart, our minds were barely connected and already i felt it. Sorrow, as large and powerful as a tsunami, consuming her and everything she touched. And it was all because of me.

The rubble was beginning to blur, the stain glass looking more like a smudge, my vision going. Damn I don't have any more adrenaline, and this hurts so much. I just want to let go. I just want to die. I've been in pain, running, bleeding, bruised, afraid of what will be around the next corner, or in the cervices of my mind.

Why can't I just die?

 _'Only one more Ray.'_ Ariadne said, giving me a soft smile.

She was so beautiful, like an african queen, her face glossy and regal, her expression kind. What did I do to deserve her? To deserve being in the same cell as her? To share my very thoughts with her. Perhaps this pain was recompense for that, in exchange for my love with her I had to live my last seconds in agony.

Focus. Just one more. Cut through the pain, the agony, the fire under my skin. Focus!

Who? Where? What? Who? Where? What?

 _..._

 _My fingers raced over the keys faster than any athlete, my mind more focused than any genius would ever be, typing clicking, faster, faster, gotta beat the damn fucking firewall. Why'd I even do this again? That's right, god damn ego, Neo said it couldn't be done so now I'm doing it, Matt fucking Jeevas, too proud to back down from a petty playground taunt._

 _Who even needs sunlight? I just laid here, in my den of computing and hacking, two laptops and desktop in front of me, a plethora of bags filled with energy capsules, or as most people called them, crisps. And then there was me, in my underwear and goggles, only moving when my body demanded that I release all the shit I'd eaten or begged me for a drink. You can't lose a second when your hacking real time._

 _Normally I don't hack this way, too much fucking effort, but a man doesn't back down when someone bashes on their fucking art. Cause that's what this is, art. Sure, everyone laughs when i tell them hacking is art, but it fucking is, it requires talent and poise, most people aren't made of strong enough stuff._

 _I could think of other things I'd rather be doing, banging some chick, clubbing, smoking pot, yeah yeah, I know it's "gateway drug", but i just say 'whatever'._

 _I still think it's the best._

 _Beep._

 _Check the screens, did it, hacked through the firewall._

 _'I'm in.' I muttered, I may take hacking seriously but that doesn't mean I can't have a laugh about it too, movies have nothing on the real deal. 'Mint.'_

...

It's done. Thank God it's done, I've connected them all, they have a chance.

Another burst of pain, my head this time, like someone was slowly crushing my skull. Of course my skull wasn't being crushed as much as my brains fried by chemicals that enhance my mind, but when you have minute to live, who actually cares?

 _'My warrior, you did it.'_ Ariadne said.

 _'Theres still time, we can save you, come back to us.'_ The monster whispered in my ear.

'I'm going to die Ariadne.' I said quietly. 'I'm going to die.'

She looked at me kindly, her eyes wide and caring even though her heart was full of sadness. She took my hand and placed where her heart was. I could feel it beating, even from across the world, the steady drumming of life.

 _'You'll live.'_ She said. _'Here.'_

'I love you, so much.' I whispered, tears of sadness and pain brimming.

 _'She doesn't know you're lying.'_ That monster said. _'Does she. Because you don't love her, you love-'_

'Enough.' I roared. 'Ariadne, find them, find Naomi. Protect them, please.' I gave her hand one final squeeze. 'Now go. I don't want you to see this.'

She kissed me, a single, final kiss, the last we'd ever share. And then she was gone, she'd closed the connection, we were still linked, only for another minute, but as long as I lived we were linked. But now she wouldn't see it, my death.

I looked back up at the sky, it was so immense, a vast cosmos, a great unknown stretching out further than humanity could travel in a thousand generations. And here I was, tiny, insignificant. Just one small human dying in an abandoned and decrepit church. I could feel that monster there, breathing on the nape of my neck, like death.

'You can't win.' I mumbled.

 _'That's where you're wrong.'_ The monster whispered back.

There was an echo at the other end of the church, they'd arrived, finally. I reached for the box one last time, my senses were all but gone and my movements were sluggish.. The pain was so intense now that I'd forgotten what it was like to live without it, I imagined that this is what being burnt alive felt like. I found what I was looking for in the box, solid and heavy, the gun. I pulled it out, soon I would use it and this would all be over.

 _'Don't bother.'_ The monster said. _'You've tried this before, we both know you won't use it.'_

I shook with pain, fear, the cold, everything. They say your life flashes before your eyes when you're going to die but I saw nothing, all there was was Ariadne and Naomi, my two bright spots.

The people at the other end of the church came into sight, a small pack of hunters, all led by Teru in his stupid suit with that bloody red tie. They began to march toward me, believing they had a chance of stopping me.

'Goodbye, Carnivore.' I said to the monster.

They were there, arranged around me like mourners at a funeral, unsure of what they were seeing, my cell. Light, Misa, L, Kiyomi, Mello, Near, Naomi, Matt. People I should have led and mentored, but I barely had a chance to know. Their minds were connected now, and the moment I died they'd be severed from the rest. I was the one link, the single threat, holding two groups together.

 _'No!'_ The monster in human skin, Carnivore, cried.

I lifted the gun, placed it in my mouth. I wondered how they would manage, my cell. They were a strange bunch, news anchors, actors, criminals, all linked together now, against their will.

I pulled the trigger.

 **To Be Continued**

* * *

 _A/N: And so the story begins! For those who haven't seen Sense8 (the primary inspiration behind this story) the eight main characters have had their minds linked together and they can now experience each others worlds, feel each others emotions, and hear each others thoughts. It's going to be interesting to write and I hope you guys enjoy the journey! Please review if you are so inclined and stay tuned for more!_


	2. Together We Are One

_A/N: A big Thank you to everyone who followed or reviewed! You guys are amazing and the support was wonderful!_

 _Disclaimer: I own nothing from Death Note._

* * *

'Charlie, what the fuck?'

This was said at a yell as I strode into Charlie's, my boss, office.

Charlie was right where I was expecting him, sitting behind that heavy looking wooden desk that looked completely out of place in the fast-paced media world of the ECN offices. Really Charlie just always felt out of place, he was by far the oldest person on the news floor. While the rest of us wore smart modern suits, Charlie was more a wear-a-bowtie-to-work kind of guy, completing that look with tweed coats and suspenders.

Charlie just sat in his big leather chair and span around to face me like a villain in a campy spy film. Only instead of a cat he held a large glass of what looked like whisky.

'Light?' He said calmly, he must have known that this would be coming.

'Where the hell is Max?'

Max. The EP. Executive producer. The person who ran all the behind the scenes of a news broadcast, they compiled the program for the evening, approving everything from the info-graphics to the guests to interview.

Normally, by this point in the day, the EP should have a first draft of the evening program ready for me to look over, and I would approve or scrap different items on the forty-eight minute run down. But as I'd found out when i arrived to work this morning, my EP, Max, had quit last night without telling me, and now it was ten O'clock on a weekday and the news was as far from being ready as my mood was foul.

'He quit.' Charlie said.

'Why?'

'I don't know.' Charlie said, feigning ignorance before actually providing the information. Classic Charlie, he loved sarcasm almost as much as me, and was old enough to get away with it whenever he wanted. 'Maybe it's because last nights broadcast managed to get turned into Abbott and Costello rather than the news.'

'Fuck that, we've had worse.'

'Exactly.' Charlie pointed out. 'We have, you should have been able to control it, but instead you sat back and let it all play out, which, I think, was Max's real problem, and for that matter it's mine too.'

'I wasn't the one who got Carrie McQueen and Hugh Barrymore on the show.'

'You approved it, which is worse. The Light Yagami I know wouldn't have let that cocktail of extremist political perspective on the show, he would have gotten articulate well informed individuals and had an honest-to-god debate.'

'They had perspectives worth hearing.'

'No they didn't and you know that.' Charlie slurred, jabbing his finger in the air wildly. 'You had them on the news for the sole reason that you knew that would bump up your dwindling figures.'

'I don't care about-'

'Yes you do, you're only 200'000 viewers a night from going from the third most popular News Anchor to the fourth. The American people remember a Light Yagami that was force of nature and presented the news with heart and intellect, not whatever ineffectual apathetic mediator that's taken his place.'

Fuck him. He knows that I'm only popular because I don't upset anyone. I stay in my lane when I present the news and viewers like that. When I actually had an opinion I was fifth most watched, not third, and if the figures are dropping it's because people don't care for the facts anymore.

They hear what they want to hear and switch the channel if it's not to their liking. If anything it's Max's fault not mine, it's his fucking run down, not that I even have Max anymore.

God damn Charlie.

How could he be so cavalier right now? Just leaning back in that leather seat, willing to let a fucking hurricane happen around him rather than stand up and move to avoid it.

'Well there's going to be a slight problem when there's no News because there's no EP.' I said.

'There's going to be an EP.' Charlie hummed. 'I hired a new one, I've been meaning to fire Max for a while now actually.'

'Well who have you got instead?'

'Emily Southwell.'

I couldn't believe him, Emily Southwell, of all people? Was he fucking insane, there was no way in a thousand years that I could do the news with Emily Southwell, and he must have known that. Charlie was audacious at the best of times, but this was something else.

'No.' I put flatly.

'Too bad, I've already hired her, she's starting today.'

'I want Max back.'

'Well you have Emily.'

'No.'

'I don't care.'

'Well I do. Your news broadcast has become so tepid that I was starting to think that you were incapable of presenting an argument with conviction. But it's you, and I know you can, and Max was never going to get that out of you, so I'm hiring Emily.'

'I won't work with her.'

I can't even believe she'll work for me, after everything that happened between us. And its not like we resolved the issue either, we've just left it to simmer for four years. As long as never saw each other again we'd be fine, and I'd assumed there was an unspoken agreement never to seek the other out. But now she's about to come tramping back into my life, pulling skeletons out of closest when quite frankly I'd rather they stayed in them.

'You will work with her, it's either that or you take forced leave for the fit that you had last night.'

That fit. It had just come out of nowhere, one moment I was in the studio, the broadcast just finished, the lights were down and I was pretending to be thankful to Hugh and Carrie for coming on the show.

The next I was in a church, or thought I was, but if felt so real at the time. Everything, the cold air, the dusty floor, the smell of mould, it was all so real. And then that man shot herself. I couldn't have been real, but it felt real, the shot sounded real, the blood looked real, my reaction certainly was real.

There was no way to explain it.

But I was not going to let that get in the way of me doing the news.

'Fine. But I don't believe for a second the opinionated drivel Emily will produce will actually boost figures.'

'It will I know it.'

'I'm going to fight this at every turn.'

'Oh get over yourself.'

'No chance, if you want to have her as my EP you'll have to deal with my thoughts on the matter.'

Damn I wish I could overrule him, but he is my boss, by technicality. And I say by technicality because I'm paid more than him, I'm a public face for the company, and it's ultimately my say what goes in the broadcast. All he does is manage the news branch of ECN. If he was just my boss I'd shut up, but he also happens to be my friend, my one and only friend, and for that reason alone I'm willing to express my opinions.

'You're a real bastard, you know that.' Charlie said, I could hear the anger rising in his voice now.

'Oh yes. But I don't care.'

'Tell me, when was it that you broke up with Emily?'

'Three years ago.'

'Well incidentally it's been that long since you were a nice guy, now get out of my office.'

The look on his face told me that, regardless of friendship, I should shut up. So I slinked off toward the door.

'We're still on for Lunch at one?' I asked, before leaving.

'Sue, bring me another whisky.' Charlie said into his intercom, ignoring me completely.

I took this to mean yes I made to leave.

But as I did I saw something strange in the reflection in the window. Where I should have been standing I saw someone else, a woman, tall an lithe, asian, hair cut short. I didn't know her, but she seemed familiar, intimate even. I'd never spoken but somehow I knew her thoughts. She was tense, frustrated even, unhappy.

I could relate.

Then she was gone, a momentary flash, nothing more than a blimp on the radar.

I shook my head. I couldn't tell Charlie I'd just seen that, he'd say it was another fit and I'd defiantly be forced to take a leave of absence.

…

Strange.

For a moment there my reflection in the glass had not been me but a man, a brunette. He looked at least partially Japanese, familiar in some way. Maybe I'd seen him on TV? Then he was gone. Flickering into existence in the glass and then flickering away again as quickly as someone changing a TV channel.

Back to business. Back to the man in front of me.

'Am I keeping you from something?' The man asked presumptuously.

I wished I was able to break his nose, I certainly could, and he had such a punchable face. So many Korean men do. His wrinkled visage was written with an unspoken smugness, an out of date sexism, the belief that because he was a man he was better than me.

'Sorry Mr Maeyang.' I said politely. 'Now I must apologise for my father being unable to attend this meeting.'

I'm not sorry, and he certainly isn't. He's currently at the Seoul Golf Club, and, judging by the time of day, probably on the 16th hole.

'But he sent me, his daughter, and board member, to close the deal in his place.' I said, giving them the most disingenuous grin in my arsenal.

He delegated this task to me, I already did so much dirty work for the company, couldn't he save me having to do this too?

'I wasn't aware Chairman Tadaka had a daughter.' Mr Maeyang said.

You and the rest of the world. I'm his best kept secret, how better to keep company money in the family than have half the board be your children, most of whom are completely unknown to the world.

'But you see.' Mr Maeyang said. 'I can't do business with you because women do not close things, they, ah.' He gave me a disgusting smile. 'Open them.'

I pulled my hand into a fist and then released it again. He didn't even know what I was capable of, if he did he certainly wouldn't be talking to me like I was whore. I could kill him with one hit, and oh how I wanted too, my body was itching for a fight, the chance to taste blood. It didn't even matter if it was in the ring or not anymore, I just wanted to fight. But I had to wait, just two more days until my next match.

'That is very… Disappointing.' I said.

…

Lights flashed, the music blasted, the sweet smell of alcohol, weed, and cheap cigarettes mixed with sweat that smelt of a promise of sex for half the people on the dance floor. Silhouettes swung and sank and rose around me in that half-assed 'dancing' that was fooling no one, everybody in the room knew that you didn't come to place like this to dance, but to rub your fat ass over someone no-names crotch, grab a few drinks, fuck in the bathrooms, go home without ever learning their name and call it an evening well spent.

I slinked my way toward the stage, dancing my way through the arms of dozen different faceless girls and a few greasy looking guys just to get a glimpse of the stage.

Neo was up there looking like a bloody Queen surveying her fucking people, all of whom writhed about in front of her, begging for the smallest scrap she would offer. They weren't hungry for food but for the beats she was offering, something a bit faster, a bit sexier. Anything to get the faceless 'friend' in your arms a little hotter under the collar, cause if they were then you'd be in that dirty bathroom fucking their brains out on a toilet seat that had been used a dozen times this same evening for everything but taking a shit.

How she managed to seam so calm up there I'll never know, seeing as everyone on the dance floor were just a couple layers of clothing away from an orgy. But calm she was, one hand holding the headphones to her ears, the others working the turnable in a way that only a disc-jockey can. Her eyes met mine, she always knows where I am, she shot me a sly wink.

It was coming.

The song began to build, the unheard lyrics mixed with the beat of another generic piece of dubstep, who can even tell the difference between one and another? The dancers could tell, unconsciously, sinking a fraction so they could rise again in time with the beat that was building to a base drop.

I'd seen it a hundred times at a dozen different clubs, they did it every single time.

I could feel my heart fall into time with the music, racing faster and faster like when my fingers dance over computer keys, racing the security systems, trying to strip back a firewall like Mr Totally-Not-On-Steroids over there was trying to strip the top off Miss Not-Feeling-It-Tonight.

But who cares about them when you know that Neo is about to work her magic, she's gonna play this crowd better than the artists of these half-baked pieces of electronic shit. The music rose, Neo's expression didn't change she was 'in the zone' totally focused on milking this mediocre-tune for all it was worth, working her witchcraft so the bland pop shit built to the most satisfying base drop of your life. She'd made this tune ten times better than usual, actually, no, five times, a polished turd mixed with another polished turd is still a fucking turd.

And here it was, three seconds away, everyone else thought it was two, Neo was about to blow their minds like Miss Expensive-Boob-Job was going to blow Mr I'm-Too-Drunk-To-Remember-I'm-Gay in about half an hour, at least by my reckoning.

Two, they didn't even know, Neo was about to go from Queen to Goddess in their eyes, not mine of course, never give her too much power, she'll abuse the fuck out of it.

One, everyone around me jumped, expecting Neo to let the base drop there, idiots.

Zero.

The real drop. I jumped with it. Neo did her thing, taking the jumbled noises and turning it into something worth jumping to. The looks on everyones faces said it all, she'd just blown them the fuck away with the musical equivalent of an atomic shock wave.

They all cheered mindlessly, half to drunk not too, and the other half to swept up and following their lead.

My heart skipped a beat. I turned to Neo and gave her the double thumbs up and screamed.

'Fucking Mint!'

…

Do Aiber and Wedy not appreciate that I am trying to cook meth?

I simply do not understand what possesses them to be so obnoxious sometimes.

Certainly their jobs could be boring, some days they'd run continuous deliveries all across the countyside, shipping the goods to every junkie with a problem. Other days, like today, they'd be stuck downstairs, watching the road for a police drug squad that was never going to come. That's the thing about Desert Shores, everyone here is completely addicted to meth, police included, myself not included. I can't afford damage my mind.

The lab used to be a dining establishment of some sort, of course it hadn't lasted long, there's barely enough people in Desert Shores to fill an apartment building let alone justify opening a dining establishment that was not a pub.

I brewed the meth upstairs, Wedy and Aiber sat downstairs at one of the old tables with rusting legs. Normally this arrangement suited us fine, but today it seemed they had taken it upon themselves to obnoxiously play music. That wasn't to say I dislike music, I appreciate classical music from a technical point of view. The problem was this was electronic and remixes, and it made it hard to focus on the job. After all we had a big delivery in two days. A big buying customer has switched from one of our rivals to us.

'Turn that down please.' I called, exercising my power as boss.

'Turn what down?' Aiber called back in a disinterested tone.

This was no time for a joke. I was in the middle of cooking meth and had a real craving for candy, and now they were playing music in poor taste. I walked to the stairwell, I'd go downstairs and turn it off myself if it came to that, but I hoped it wouldn't. Wedy can get very temperamental when I do those sorts of things, and there's nothing worse than an emotional colleague.

'That electronic garbage.' I replied.

'I don't know what you're talking about L.' Aiber replied.

The bass dropped in whatever song they were listening to, it missed a beat, dropping a second later than I was expecting. I wasn't 'feeling' the music at all but my heart skipped a beat, or did it? It was more like an echo of a missed heart beat because mine felt normal.

 _'Fucking mint!'_

That was it.

I try to avoid confrontation but this is unreasonable even by their standards. I reached the base of the grimy stairs and looked at the two of them, sitting there in the hollow shell of a room, cobwebs in the corner and everything coated in years of dirt and rust.

I was about to start berating them but the music suddenly disappeared.

They both had heads in a book, Wedy in a thick tome, Aiber in a magazine, he wasn't the most intelligent person I knew.

No musical device to be seen.

'Yes L?' Wedy said not bothering to look up.

I could have sworn that there had been music, so loud that it shook the earth.

'Strange…'

…

The door to my office swung open and then began to shut again noiselessly, not a creak in the hinges, or a whispered hiss as it brush over expensive carpet. But that silence was deafening, because my entire world was shattering like glass and coming down around me. Even until this moment I'd still believed that she couldn't really be coming back, my rational mind told me there was no way.

But she was there, Emily Southwell, in all her wretchedness.

I couldn't confess that I was happy to see her, and she certainly hadn't changed. Ever since the first day I'd met her she'd marched into conversations and started making her point without even saying a polite 'hello'. That isn't to say I'm an expert on being polite, I'm not, but neither is she.

'I'm sure I told Carol not to let people in without first getting my approval.' I said to no one, I knew for a fact she wasn't listening.

'There is nothing that is more important in a democracy than a well informed population.'

The interloper didn't even bother to introduce herself, she didn't have to, she just got straight to the point. Fucking Emily Southwell. As it sat, every bloody door and wall in this office made of glass. Good for blocking sound, bad for blocking a visual, everyone was about to see the verbal war that was going to take place.

'When there is no information or much worse wrong information.' Emily said without even stopped to acknowledge what I'd said. 'It can lead to monumentally calamitous decisions and stifle any attempt at vigorous debate and that's why I produce the news.'

Typical Emily. We haven't seen each other in years and the first thing she does is walk in and give me a lecture of morality. She may have gotten her chocolate brown hair cut to a shoulder length, put on a few pounds, and started wearing pant suits rather than pencil skirts, but nothing was ever going to stop her from dishing out a lecture.

'We're all grateful to you.' I said, not meaning a word of it.

'You're spinning out of control.'

'I sure hope you're not trying to win me over, because it's not working.'

She ignored my comment and continued on with her point.

'You're terrified of losing your audience, you'll do anything to get them back, you're one focus group away from doing the News in 3D and with a nicely choreographed action scene.'

True. True, I hadn't thought about that but if it would work… and the last one wasn't feasible but certainly an enticing prospect. But there was no way I was letting her score the first point, she'd lord that over me forever, and she's my bloody EP so I need all the control I can get.

'This isn't non-for profit theatre, this is media paid for by views and advertising. You do know that right?'

She sighed.

That bloody sigh, I'd been given it a thousand times. Every time I 'didn't get the point' of some romantic cliche, every time I had wanted to do something different when we'd worked together on the news, she'd always given me that bloody sigh.

'I'd rather do good news for a thousand then bad news for a million if that's what you're asking.'

'Why exactly are you here right now, and, oh, I don't know, anywhere else?'

'Well-'

'Actually I could have sworn you were reporting in the middle east.'

'Light, the reason I'm here-'

'Yes you were, you did that documentary on Al Qaeda.' I said, ignoring her just like she had ignored me.

'As I was saying-' She said, trying and failing to regain control of the conversation.

'I heard it failed to win any awards.' I added spitefully, taking glee in how she couldn't get a word in edgeways.

'If you would just listen-'

'It's a pity the terrorists didn't shoot you, would have saved us both some trouble.' I added off-handedly.

That was a step too far, just like the old days. Every time we'd argue this would happen, we'd get annoyed, try to speak over the top of each other, cut with petty insults, until i finally went too far and she blew up.

'Oh for fucks sake Light Yagami, would you just shut up for two seconds?' She screamed.

Outside every staffer swivelled to face the office moving like a perfectly practiced pantomime. Their faces said it all, they were enjoying the scene and knew that they shouldn't. But seamlessly they watched on anyway.

'I've come here to do a news broadcast that more closely resembles the one we used to produce before you got popular, by not bothering anyone.' She said, leaning over my desk and emphasising the the last three words with force.

'I think I'd rather be employed if it's all the same to you.'

'It's not all the same to me, you punk.' She said, the last word sounding very out of place with her usually articulate vocabulary. 'I've come to take your talent and IQ and put it to some god damn use. And where does it say that a good news broadcast can't be popular.'

Bloody Emily. She's been back in my life for less than a minute and already it feels like we're grinning through the same old argument of three years earlier. How on earth does Charlie expect me to work with her when she won't even work with me?

'Rating say so.' I shot back.

But of course, Emily won't accept something as concrete as facts in a debate. No, she would only live in reality if it was a reality that adhered to her picturesque ideals, otherwise she'd take whatever fact I threw and her and ignore it.

'You have brains, looks, charm, and affability and I want to combine that with-'

'-Refusal to live in reality.' I shouted over her. 'It's impossible.' I said, reaching for a document on the desk. It didn't actually contain any of the information I was about to quote at her, I just needed a prop to point at so as to emphasise how unreasonable she was being. 'The American public has not been so ideologically divided since the Civil War. The Civil War.' I said, pointing at the manuscript emphatically.

'Yes.' She said, trying to stay calm. 'People choose the news they want now-'

'-People choose the facts they want now, Em. So what you just described is impossible.'

With any rational human being that would have been the end of the argument, point made, Light Yagami 1. Emily Southwell Nil. But no, I could see as soon as I started the word 'impossible' that she was charging up for another tirade of idealistic bullshit.

'Only if you think that an overwhelming majority of the American people are by their very nature, stupid.'

'I Do.'

'I don't. And moreover I'm going to prove it to you. People will want the news if you give it to them with integrity, not everyone, not even a lot of people, five percent. And five percent of anything is what makes the fucking difference around here. So we can do better.'

She slammed her fist down on my desk to try and emphasise her point, but she slammed it so hard that it looked like she probably hurt herself quite badly. I hope it bruises, or even better, is broken. She stared at me, I stared back.

'Yeah, that whole speech did nothing for me.' I said.

She groaned and walked for the door, much as I had probably done with Charlie not two hours ago.

'Fine, I'm going to prove you wrong.' She said. 'I'll have a draft run down in an hour, and don't think we're finished talking about this either Light Yagami.'

'I wouldn't dream of it.'

…

Eric prattled on about something or another as I gazed out the window of the car as the Los Angeles blitzed past around me.

People, on the sidewalk and in their cars, all so busy to be somewhere.

Raye and I had always meant to move away from here, we'd transfer to a different FBI branch and raise our child in a place that was a little less busy. Not a lot, just a little.

Eric took the car down a less trafficked street, we were slowly (no one drove quickly in LA, the traffic jams took care of that) crawling into the suburbs. The sounds of drivers constantly beeping at each other faded slightly, stopped by a large block of disused buildings.

Raye.

My husband, a year ago he'd gone AWOL and was presumed dead. Two weeks after that I'd had a miscarriage and lost our unborn baby too. I'd been taken off active service, I wish the FBI hadn't done that. At that point I needed the work to bury myself behind, to hide from the fact that in less than a month I'd lost the love of my life and my child.

I thought I'd moved beyond it, but that vision proved that you can't escape some things. Raye had been sitting there, in the middle of that church, looking battered and beaten. Then he'd shot himself. It felt so real, those dreams always did, but this one was different. It felt more real, every detail was tangible, in dreams they're normally all fuzzy and indistinct, but I could make out everything that time.

Eric was still talking, we all had talents and his was being able to hold up a conversation on his own. Good for him, I'm not always talkative. I looked back out the window, watching the buildings as we passed them.

Factory. Factory. House. Wouldn't have wanted to live there. Factory. Factory. House. House. House. Who builds houses near factories? House. House. Church. Hou- wait!

'Eric, pull over.' I commanded, interrupted Eric's endless monologue.

'Why?'

'Just do it.'

He pulled the car over to the sidewalk and leapt out, making a deadline for the church. Theres no way, there's just no way…

'Naomi?' He asked, running after me.

'It's the same church in my dream.' I said.

'Your dream? Are you serious?'

I was.

I burst into the church. It was the same, every detail. The rubble was exactly where it had been in the dream, the stain glass windows broken in the exact same pattern. The smell, it was the same smell as in my dream, all musty, mould mixed with mothballs and broken stone. That doesn't make any sense, how could I know what it smelt like in here? I've never seen this place before except for the dream.

No, there had to be a way to test this situation, some fact.

He'd been sitting up near the alter, Raye, no, my dream of Raye, this wasn't possible, it didn't make sense. Raye, my dream of him, had had syringes with him, he broke one, so if it had been real, which it hadn't, then there would be…

I bolted for the other end of the church, leaping over piles of broken stone, making for the alter. There were footprints all through the dust, too many to just be Raye, they looked old enough though. Maybe there had been other people? No, it wasn't real, it was just some random youths, a bunch of nobodies.

My dream was just a dream after all.

And yet maybe not…

I stopped at the alter. The dust had been displaced, someone had been sitting here and then moved. A dark stain marked the stone, deep red, like blood, where Raye had shot himself? No, it wasn't real, but… I knelt, inspected the stone closer. There. Little specks of glass, with what looked like numbers and lines on them.

So it had been real.

It wasn't a dream at all, but a vision, a seance, whatever you want to call it, it had been real, but that didn't make any sense. And if it had been real then where was Raye? Where had his body gone and who moved it?

'Naomi will you explain?' Eric called from the other end of the church.

 _'Near.'_

What? That hadn't been Eric, the voice was young, a boys voice, laced with a Russian accent. But we were the only two in here, so there couldn't be…

I turned to see.

…

The lady, whoever she was, turned to face me.

Who was she? Why was I back here, in the church?

It was the same church, where I'd seen that man shoot himself in the head, but that hadn't been real, so this couldn't be real.

But it felt real.

It was a different time of day, the sun was blazing through the hole in the roof, there was no wind like before, the air was stagnant and stale, tasting like dust. And that woman, dressed head to toe in black, she stared at me. Could she see me? But this wasn't real? Then why did I call out to her? This made no logical sense.

 _'Was that you?'_

She asked slowly, as if she was as doubtful about this as I was, as disbelieving. No it wasn't 'as if', she was, I could feel her doubt and uncertainty, her need for answers, but unlike me it was all wrapped in emotion, strong emotion. She was confused, both overjoyed and sad. How did I know this? I've never met her before in my life, but I feel like I know her, whoever she is.

Naomi. That's her name. How do I know that?

I nodded slowly, answering her question.

 _'How did you get here?'_

How did I get here?

Where is here?

One minute I was in my room back at the asylum, with it's white walls and floors, surrounded by the plethora of toys offered by the institution. The next moment I'm transported back to this church.

Or was I? I could still feel the floors at the Asylum, always cold and clean, but I could also feel the floors here?

Could I be in two places at once?

How?

I felt my heartbeat begin to accelerate, this was all terrifying, it made no sense, it made no sense, maybe I really was insane…

 _'Hey, hey, calm down.'_ The lady said, how did she know I was scared? My poker face is second to none. _'I don't know what's going on either.'_

She stepped down from the alter and toward me, crossing the rubble. When she reached me she sat down, so we were eye to eye.

 _'You have a funny way of sitting, is it comfortable?'_

I'd never thought how I sat, with one leg pulled against my chest funny and the other flush against the floor, was funny or unusual. But then again I was hardly normal by anyones standards. My experiences, my past, my behaviours, the fact that I couldn't say anything but near… none of that would be considered normal.

 _'It's ok.'_ She said, smiling kindly. _'We're in this together, you and I.'_

Were we? How did she know? Was she experiencing the same things as me? Did she have visions of that man as well?

She offered her hand to me, her palm open and welcoming.

I took it.

…

He took my hand and in an instant I was transported to where he lived.

Everything was so white, so clean, so sterile. His room had toilet in one corner, a bed in another, and toys across the floor. The only other features were a bared window and a heavy metal door. This wasn't a room but a cell, a prison.

 _'Near…'_

He was gone, that strange boy, with white hair in white clothes in his white world. One moment he was there the next he was gone. My hand was empty, his was gone, the space where he had been sitting was undisturbed.

'What the hell was that about?' Eric demanded.

'Didn't you see him?'

'Who?'

'The boy.'

'What boy? You just started talking to thin air!' He turned and marched out of the church. 'Great, my first partner on this job is fucking crazy!'

I let him go, I'd follow in a moment.

For a second I'd been transported somewhere else, like on that night with my dream, except it wasn't a dream, it had been real. All of that had been real, somehow, I knew it had to be, that boy whoever he was, he'd felt real, he'd been real.

And if all this had been real then that meant that Raye had been real too. He had been alive, sitting here in this church.

I'd watched as he'd taken his life.

I had to know why.

Why he took his life, why he'd run away, why he'd brought me back to see him before he died, and who that boy was. Because if this had happened twice already then it could happen again, I could make it happen again.

…

'Oi, Matt, these were the guys I was telling you about.'

My mate, Paul 'Piggy' Higgins, skinny as all fuck, his an unfunny joke, was standing with three other people outside. I was walking out of the club, as I stepped over the threshold the loud, earth shaking thumps of the music became more like a distant heartbeat. Neo was done blowing minds for a night so she'd be out in a few minutes. Now they were back to playing the shit stock songs the club owned, everyone inside was too fucking drunk ti realise they were being forced to listen to musical sewage.

The air outside the club felt clean and free. Inside had become a suffocating mix of alcohol breath and cheap cigarettes, all topped off with a sticking sweat. It doesn't matter whether you're at the best club in the fucking world or at a shit club like this one, those three things are always the same.

And while people were smoking out here, and we were in the middle of bloody London, hardly the cleanest air in the world, it was still pure by comparison.

'You the one who 'ad the vision?' One of Piggys friends asked, he had greasy blonde hair and a face so pock-marked it looked like the surface of the moon.

'Thats right.' I said.

'Yeah yeah mate, listen, I 'ad the same thing 'appen to me.'

That bloody vision, it was exhaustion, or too long staring at a computer screen, or something.

One moment I'm their, in my room, just finished hacking another fucking government database and the next moment I'm in some bloody church. But I wasn't just seeing it, I could fucking feel it too, the air, the feel of the dust on the floor, the smell of mould.

And there was this guy, he looked more of a mess than I did after three days straight on the computer, and then he bloody shoots himself.

I could have sworn I was hallucinating or some shit, normally I'd say it was strong pot but I'd had nothing for a day, but it all felt to real, like a vision.

So I'd told Neo, and I guess she fucking told Piggy, and if Piggy knew then half of bloody London knew.

'Yeah, whatever.' I said, brushing crater-face off, I seriously doubt he'd had a vision.

'Nah, nah mate it's true shit, one moment I'm in the park high as a fucking kite and then I get this feeling, this brooding shit, like I know something's going to die, and the next moment, wham! The car across the street spins out of control and takes down this old lady. True shit mate, I knew it was going to happen.'

Thats not called a vision, that's called needing to go into rehab. But crater-faces friend, a runty guy with a face like a rat nodded in agreement.

'Yeah, yeah, it's called Lambic Renaissance.' He said, the words sounding uncomfortable on his tongue.

'Limbic Resonance you dumb shit.' A callous voice correct.

I turned to face it's owner, Neo. A glass of cheap piss in hand, her stupid red coat on to protect against the cold London wind. She had probably been waiting half a minute to join in, just waiting for someone to say something stupid so she could correct them, she really could be a bitch.

'Ah shut the fuck up Neo.' Rat face said.

'I think it's more likely you just had too much to smoke.' Neo said casually, leaning against the railing and looking off the building and down at the road below, cars and people crawling across the darkened city like insects.

'My bloody thoughts exactly.' I said, agreeing with Neo.

I hate to say she's right, but in this case she probably is.

'Yeah yeah, you laugh, but it's true.' Crater face said. 'Look, me and Wilson 'ere have some of the shit I was smoking when it 'appened. Come back to our place, you can 'ave some and then we'll see 'oose right.'

'What shit is that?' I asked.

'Hash.' Rat face said.

Neo gave me and expression, raised eyebrows.

I knew what she was thinking, hash was like pot except stronger, and while I didn't want to spend anymore time around crazy 1 and 2 over there the idea of free hash was enticing to say the least. And it's not like Neo and me could bloody afford it, we barely make rent each week, DJ'ing and hacking don't always pay the best, even when you were the best like us.

'Ok.' I said. 'Lets go-'

'Oi, you the DJ?'

A pair of turds in human skins approached us. They were all singlets, bulging biceps and a complete absence of brains. The exact kind of guy that Neo hates, but that wasn't gonna stop them from trying.

'Yeah, what of it?' She asked.

'You spin pretty damn well.' One said. 'For a girl that is.'

Now they've done it, you never, never say anything sexist around Neo cause she'll tear you to shreds faster than a gattling gun

'Well you clean up pretty well for a pig.' She shot back casually.

Their expression changed immediately, not so interested in an easy lay anymore. Now they just wanted to protect their pride, people were watching now, and they weren't going to be ones to loose face.

'You're a fucking bitch.' One, who can tell the difference, said stupidly.

Neo rolled her eyes.

'A, not my fucking problem. B, you're a bunch of chauvinistic assholes. C through to Z, I don't give a shit.' She turned to leave. 'Come on, lets go.'

I, along with Crater face, Piggy, and rat face, moved quickly to follow her, leaving the two idiots red in the face and with even less of a chance of getting laid tonight than I had, and my odds were pretty low.

Instead i thought about the hash. I hoped it was good, I wanted to get so trashed that I could hear colours. I looked around, imagining what all the shades of the nightclub exterior might sound like. And as I looked I saw her.

She was just standing there, in the middle of the crowd that was milling around on the roof of the club. She was beautiful in every sense of the word, her long blonde hair glowed. She was slim and lithe, and held herself like she knew she was valuable and adored by many. And despite that she didn't seem to notice the people around her, nor did the people seem to see her. She didn't see me, she didn't say anything to me, but I knew what she was feeling. She was uncertain, worried for the future, scared of hurting someone and being hurt herself.

I lifted my goggles to get a better look at her, what was she doing here? She seemed so out of place in a slime hole like this. The way reality shifted around her made it seem like she wasn't really there.

Could I be the only one who could see her?

'Matt come on.' Neo called.

I blinked, she was gone. Where? Had she slipped into the crowd? Maybe she'd never been there? Another vision? More likely a result of the mixture of my imaginings and the second hand smoke I was breathing it.

But what if I really had seen it? What if I was insane? I don't want to go insane, but if that's what insanity looked like, maybe I could live with it.

I shook my head, who was she?

 _Misa._

How did I know that? She never said anything, I've never seen her before, but I feel closer to her than anyone else, as if we shared thoughts.

'Hurry the fuck up Matt.' Neo shouted, impatiently.

I put my goggles back on and followed Neo and the other, casting those thoughts to the back of mind, for another time.

…

 _'Hurry the fuck up Matt.'_

What was that?

I turned to look, I was the only person in the shrine.

That voice had sounded western, English maybe?

I wasn't to sure, I'd done a few movies and interviews in England but I still wasn't too great with picking up accents.

It was strange, for a moment there I'd felt curiosity surge through me, seizing my very body like a strong wind only to disappear again. It was like the 'incident'. For a few seconds that curiosity felt so real, like it was a part of me, and then in was gone, just like the image of the crumbling church and the blood spattered man in front of the alter.

I'd tried to tell Mogi about it, but he'd just said I work too much.

Silly man, he works just as much as me, sure my hours are more irregular, but that doesn't change anything. It certainly doesn't change the mess I'm in. If only I could talk to him about the 'incident' then maybe I could talk to him about this too, break it to him kindly, but as it stood I couldn't so I was here instead.

The shrine would be beautiful in spring, cherry blossoms blooming, flowering light pink bushels of life. I never believed that spring had really started until I saw the first cherry blossom bloom. Only then would I let myself believe the season had arrived.

I was never very good when it came to practicing Shinto regularly, Mum's always been better at it than me, I've always been too impatient I think.

Who has time for hand washing and bowing when I could be acting, pretending to be a woman in love or Queen of a great kingdom? But whenever the going gets tough I always find my way back here to my favourite Shrine. It's old, the red paint slightly faded but still proud and strong. I think that's what religion is when you get down to it, it's always my bedrock.

'Kami, I implore thee, here my prayer.'

That sentence, it didn't mean anything, there was no reason to do it, but ever since I was very little I'd always done it before a prayer. It was my way of being respectful to all the Kami, a way of making amends to them.

Mum always said there was no reason to make amends, that Amaterasu, Sargutahiko, Izanagi and Iazanami, Susanoo and all the other ones whose names I forget would be there regardless of a plea.

But I think that the fact I forget their names proves I need to plea first.

'I'm getting married in two weeks.' I said, I always spoke to the spirits like this, it wasn't really how it's done, but this shrine is almost always empty so it doesn't matter either way. 'To a man, a good man. His names Mogi, but I suppose you already know this. He loves me, he will care for me. But there's just one problem.'

I took a breath in, breath out.

'I don't love him.'

…

For the second time today the glass door to my office swung open, and for the second time that she-demon Emily marched in unopposed. Did my assistant not understand when I explained to her that I had to be informed before Emily was allowed in? I made that very clear after the last time I'm certain. But here Emily is again, marching in like she owns me. Clearly this was the 'talk later' that she threatened to have.

 _'I don't love him.'_

Those words found me, echoing through the past to find me now. They belonged to me, I'd said them three years ago to the woman in front of me and been cut off before I could say the next three. But this time it sounded… different.

But how could it, they were my words, my exact words. I'd said them August 7th, and everything about that moment, from the way she looked down to the digital clock that 12:27am was captured perfectly in my head.

So why had the voice that spoke the words changed if everything else was the same.

Unless, someone else had said those words just now?

But who?

I didn't have time to ponder because Emily commanded my attention. There was a twinkle in her brown eyes, it gave me a moments pause. Perhaps what she was about to say, as perversely idiotic and obnoxiously ideological as it was, may just be worth listening too. I

uncrossed my arms, I didn't even notice crossing them when she had entered, but crossed they were, so uncross them I did to let her know that she had a moment to speak in which I would listen.

'I know we disagree on how the news should be run.' Emily began.

Understatement of the year, between her start-eyed outlook on modern day media, and her willingness to look over years of emotional and intellectual volatility between the two of us, I was starting to wonder if she could actually comprehend anything in a rational light or if it had to be one extreme or the other.

'But please.' She continued. 'Just listen to these words written five hundred years ago by Miguel De Cervantes.'

She cleared her throat and began.

"Find your guiding inspiration

In a place where dreams are made

With a lifetimes preparation

It's no time to be afraid

Put our differences behind us

While we shine like the sun

See what we've all become

Together we are one"

That was Don Quixote.' She added lamely.

It was my turn to sigh at her, honestly did she think I had no education at all, I can tell what is from 'Don Quixote' and what was not.

'Those words.' I said. 'Were written by Delta Goodrem in 2007.'

'Didn't think you would know that-'

'-How could I not know that?' I interrupted loudly.

'I don't know, you never payed attention to pop music-'

'I work in the media!' I cried, exasperated. 'How was I meant to miss 'Together We Are One'?'

'I don't know, that's not the point.' Emily replied, getting exasperated herself.

'Well what is the point?'

With Emily I doubted there was one but she probably had the first draft of the rundown for tonights show and I needed to look over it, so anything to hurry this along.

'It's time for Don Quixote!' Emily proclaimed waving her hand around.

'What and you think I'm him?'

'No I think I'm him and you're the horse.' Emily said, correcting me.

'He rode a donkey not a horse.' I corrected in return, no way I was letting her have the last word.

'Well there's really nothing I can do about that.'

'Is this your way of calling me an ass?' I asked.

'I refuse to answer that question on the grounds that it might incriminate me.'

This didn't seem to be going anywhere, I crossed my arms again, propped my feet up on the table. I was done listening to her rubbish, if she had the rundown then she could give it to me so I could get on with my job and if not then she could get out.

'If you having nothing to say I need to start writing my script for tonight-'

'I can do that.'

'No-'

'There's no news to report because nothing of any consequence has happened today!' She began in a horrendous impression of me, there was no way I sounded that smug. 'It's just another great day to be a patriotic American, which i am, despite what the racist Alabamans think just because I'm half Japanese on my mothers side.'

I groaned, rubbed my hands on my temples, I could feel I migraine coming on. If she didn't shut up I'd have another 'vision', maybe I should try for one. If I go on forced leave at least it will be somewhere away from her. No, I can't give in, she's trying to take over my entire News broadcast, about the only good thing I have since she tore apart the rest of it three years ago.

But hey, whose bitter? Not me, obviously.

'You want me in the same shouting match as Hugh and Carrie.' I said.

'I want you to not apologise for saying something you believe in, something of actual intelligence. You need to be in the shouting match, and with my help we can be winning it.'

Win a shouting match with the entirety of American media? She really is deranged.

'And what does winning look like to you?'

'Reclaiming the fourth estate.' She said, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. 'Reclaiming journalism as an honourable profession. A nightly newscast the is worthy of a great debate, the gives the facts to the stupid, makes them better. I want the death of gossip, the return to civility, the death of media bitchiness, a return of respect. We have a chance to unify people in a way that no one else has even tried, we have that chance. If this country, this world, any of us are going forward, we're going to have to do it together. Together. As one.'

She'd talked herself out of breath and when she finished she just stared at me huffing. I knew now why I had dated her, despite her ridiculous idealism, even though she had cheated on me, she was still brilliant. Bloody Emily Southwell.

'You have one week to prove this is worth it.'

She smiled. That winning grin, all toothy and white.

'Thank you.' She reached into her pocket and pulled out a piece of paper. 'And here, look over this, it's the first draft of the run down.'

And with that she left, the glass door swinging shut once more.

I sat there, in my chair, feet up on the my modern desk made out a light wood. There had been wisdom in what she had said whether I would admit it to her or not. I hated her, completely and unequivocally, but maybe just maybe I could work with her.

'Together we are one.' I whispered to myself.

My mind began to spin, I was alone but it felt like I was surrounded by people. A tingling in my fingers began, I could feel wind where there was none, cold and hear at the same time, my sense's firing even though there was nothing to evoke them. It was almost like I was sharing something, my being, with others, though I knew not how that was possible.

'Together we are one.'

 _Across the world that sentence was whispered by eight people._

 _Light, L, Kiyomi, Mello, Near, Naomi, Matt, Misa._

 _Each could feel the others, every sensation felt by one felt by all._

 _None understood how it was happening or what it even was._

 _Their unity was still a mystery._

 _And although it was a mystery to them, it's results, whether they understood them or otherwise, were not._

 _'Together We Are One.'_

 _They all whispered, seven of them not knowing where the words came from. Light not knowing he was sharing those words with them._

* * *

 _A/N:_ _Well that was quite long, I imagine that a lot of chapters in this story are going to be long. Theres just so much going on in the story that I have to cover. Also sorry to major Mello fans, but by the time I'd written up everything else there didn't really seem to be space for him too, otherwise this would have been more bloated than it already was! But don't worry, there's going to be some major Mello action next chapter! But the connections between characters are already starting to show and they're only going to get stronger! I've decided that each chapter will focus on a few of the characters, so this one was mostly about Light and Matt (and also Naomi and Near to a lesser extent). Anyway, please feel free to review, any feedback is welcome! And stay tuned for the next chapter in this story!_


	3. Two Chases

_A/N: Thank you again for all the wonderful support! You people have been demanding some explanations to whats going on, and hopefully this chapter will provide one or two! Enjoy!_

 _Disclaimer: I own nothing from Death Note._

* * *

'Moving onto the next file, his name is Jonas Milan…'

I looked at my watch, a whole thirty seconds had passed since the last time, the increments between checks were slowly but surely getting shorter. At first it had been ten minutes between checks, than seven, then five, until finally reaching thirty seconds. I can't even hold focus for a whole minute, and in a threat briefing no less! I should be focusing, these are high level criminal operatives.

But try as I might my mind kept wondering back to the church, and the boy, and the visions. I still can't quite get her head around the fact that it was all real, part of me has accepted it. But my rational mind kept fighting back against the idea, it just seemed to outlandish.

Perhaps the reason I want to believe its real is because if it is then Raye was alive, and he contacted me.

I could just be deluding myself with that possibility I know. But at this moment a deluded head was better than a damaged heart.

But even if Raye had been alive he's certainly dead now, I saw him put a bullet in his brain. That's where the vision ended, the moment he died.

'Ms. Pember.' The lecturer called out, god I'll never get used to being called that, 'Ms.' a constant reminder that I'm a lonely widow. 'Are you paying attention?'

'Yes sir.' I replied.

'Well please act like it.'

I couldn't be bothered feeling embarrassed, something as simple as embarrassment seemed insignificant when compared with everything else that was happening. Next to me, Eric leaned over.

'You still thinking about what happened in the church?'

'Yeah.'

'So you really think it happened?'

'I guess.'

I couldn't quite pick Eric.

At the time he seemed totally disbelieving, angry even, that I was having visions. But he'd come round remarkably quickly. Rather than report me or request a different partner he'd taken an interest.

It made no sense, if I'd had me for a partner I certainly wouldn't be sticking around. Maybe he just thought I'd be the key to the 'big break' of his career, that's the only thing that made even the slightest bit of sense and even that was ludicrous.

'Our next one is a bit different.' The lecturer said. The power point he was using flicked over. It displayed a woman, dark skinned, of an average height. She possessed a refined beauty, almost of a royal quality. But even her beauty was shadowed by the strange aura that surrounded her. You could sense it, even in the photo. Her presence drew your attention. Your eyes would slowly drift back to her as if searching for something strange or out of place despite the fact that there seemed to be nothing unusual about her.

The document said she was Rwandan and that she was 29 years old, the same age as me, she would have lived through the Rwandan Genocide as a child.

'We have no confirmed name, her only known alias is 'Ariadne'. She is believed to be working for a group called 'Anima', which yes, for all you geniuses, is latin for "soul". We know very little about her or the organisation, but we believe that the group has been responsible for a string of recent murders and terrorist attacks. Known associates of hers include known terrorist Teru Mikami. Whilst this operative has been involved in no known terrorist activity, we still believe her to be dangerous and so it is advised that if encountered she is taken into custody for questioning.'

I stared at the picture, I felt like I knew her, but how? My intuition has never been that strong. But when I'd been speaking to that boy, Near, that's what I'd taken to calling him seeing as that was the only thing he'd said to me, I'd been able to figure out his thoughts and feelings. No. It wasn't quite like that, I didn't 'figure' anything out, I felt it. It was almost like everything he experienced caused ripples, and I felt their resonance. Like and Echo.

But I was certain I didn't know this woman in the same way I knew Near. There was no familiarity in her foreign face. And yet I was certain that somehow our degrees of separation were not as many as reason suggested they should be.

Which meant… the only other place this could have come from was Raye.

Had he transferred some knowledge of her to me? We'd been connected for a minute at the most, she must be important, the only things I got from Near were the most primary thoughts and experiences, so she must be significant. But how?

Was he trying to warn me? My initial reaction to her picture wasn't hostile, maybe he was trying to say something else? Maybe this organisation, 'Anima' had recruited him, and that's why he disappeared.

'Oi, Jean Grey.' That was Eric, he'd given me the nick name, I suppose it was a small price to pay for his otherwise good reaction to my… whatever it was. 'Is she important?'

I nodded.

'How?'

'I don't know, but I need to meet her.'

…

'Mello, you ready?'

'Yeah.'

'Well whats the problem?'

I sat there, my rosary in hand, working my way slowly through the beads, praying the appropriate prayer for each. I'd been keen for this job, organised it from scratch, pulled together this crew.

But now…

Well fuck, now I didn't know what to think.

When I was in confession I had it, that vision, no not a vision, it was a miracle.

The lord sent me an image, a man, I don't know who, in a wrecked church, shooting himself. I don't know how to describe it, the whole thing felt so real and lifelike, it couldn't possibly have been a daydream, so I decided it was a miracle.

The lord works in mysterious ways.

Fuck I hate that saying.

Why'd my mum die Father Conrad? The lord works in mysterious ways.

Why'd my brother get killed by those men Father Conrad? The lord works in mysterious ways.

Fucking cunt bitch of a priest just said that every time. No matter what, whenever my life was torn apart again, gutted from within, the reason would always be that lord worked in mysterious fucking ways.

But now, sitting here in this half lit garage, the van to my left, the Skyre to my right, both of us dressed in balaclavas with guns in hand, I felt closer to my god than I ever had before.

I asked for forgiveness for the sins I would commit today and he sent me a miracle, the image of a man shooting himself.

Was he trying to tell me that I was doing that to myself? Was he trying to save me? The lord works in mysterious ways, too fucking mysterious for me it seems.

Skyre, my partner in crime, my other partner of course was Roy, our one and only hacker.

Skyre was reliable, I knew to be level headed and solid in a gunfight. Roy however… well this job was being done on a budget and so savings had to be made somewhere and Roy was it. His hacking skills left something to be desired, which meant he was cheap, friends and family discount not included. But the lack of skill meant an increased chance in everything going to shit but that's just the price you have to pay to make a buck.

Still we'd been together through thick and thin, this was, what? Year number eight of our friendship, I think. Fuck, too long to spend around these tools, but I wouldn't have it any other way. We'd been together since school, a little gang of misfits.

These days we were thieves, I was the get away driver, Skyre was the best shot, and Roy hacker. Together we are the three musketeers, except there was nothing honourable about us.

Good, it's better that way I reckon.

But even if I wanted to back out now I couldn't, the crew was depending on me, the driver, to get them out. Surely god would understand, he'd have too.

'Nothing.' I muttered, standing and pocketing the rosary.

'So you ready?'

'Fuck yeah, lets go steal some shit.'

…

'That's a wrap people.' The director called out.

I sighed a long tired sigh as I sat down on my chair.

The crew began packing up all the technical gear, the numerous cameras and lights that had been scattered around the lovely Victorian-eque lounge room being switched off and stored away until tomorrow.

I loved filming for movies like this one, you always got to see the most amazing sets.

Like this one, it was all three meter high windows with lavish curtains that were a passionate red, beautiful hand carved furniture, and rooms adorned with exquisite portraits. And the costumes, don't get me started on those! Like mine today, a gorgeous silk thing, the colour of a hundred thousand yen champagne.

Another sigh.

A weird tension had been building up all day, I couldn't quite place it. My body had been tight and on edge, every muscle and sense strung up, almost like I was about to do something terrible and dangerous, like rob and bank or kidnap a celebrity.

Ha, kidnap a celebrity. I am a celebrity.

Before you're famous the idea of celebrity kidnapping is a bit of joke, something that wouldn't really happen. But now that I am one the possibility was real, something I was always somewhat mindful of.

'Great job Misa.' The director said, walking over to me. 'I loved the anxiety you brought to the character, it was really something else.'

I smiled, I didn't really care for the praise, I just liked to act, but it was still nice.

And besides, I hadn't brought anything, the tension brought itself and I was just carried along.

In many ways the tension had felt alien, a rogue emotion planted there, it didn't really belong to me.

That's been happening more often, weird mood swings, no, not mood swings, not exactly. It's more like those phantom sensations, that seem to come out of nowhere and completely posses you. Mum always said they happened when someone else was talking about you, she was full of little gems like that. It suppose thats what it was like, almost as if someone else was having the emotion and I was just experiencing the ripple.

'Misa!'

I turned, to see who had called me.

It was Mogi.

My idiot.

He was a big guy, with a very square but kind face. He ran over to me and hoisted me off the ground and span me around. I giggled, trying my hardest to seem 'into' it. God this was a mess. I don't love him, but he loves me. It's a stupid situation I should never have wound up in but here I am.

If I could just say how I actually felt and thought this all could have been avoided. Mum always said I was emotionally evasive and Mogi was the proof. How did I end up engaged to him? I don't even love him.

'Hi.' He said with a wide grin.

'Hey you.' I replied, it wasn't hard to seem interested, he was a nice guy, I just didn't love him.

'How was your day?'

'Good.' I replied. 'The director worked my butt off but I think I was giving my A game today.'

'She was.' A cast member called out.

'Good to hear.' Mogi said, hugging me tightly again.

I saw some of the cast members come over smitten, whisper things like 'young love, it's beautiful' or something equally cliche to each other.

I really wanted to love Mogi, but I couldn't. I want someone interesting, diverse, as far removed from me as you could possibly get… like him! Who was he?

It was a man, couldn't be older than twenty two, with maroon hair and goggles. He walked through the set, like a ghost. He wasn't opaque of haunted looking, it was just that nobody seemed to notice him, and he did not notice them. And then he looked at me. Even through the orange tint of his goggles I could make out amazing emerald eyes, he was handsome in a roguish way.

So totally removed from my life.

I blinked

He was gone.

…

'Matt?'

'Huh?' I mumbled distractedly.

'You good?' Neo asked.

I only then realised that my concentration had drifted and I'd stopped walking halfway through the door into Piggy's flat.

It was that girl, the beautiful Japanese one.

Misa.

That was what I'd decided her name was, though I'm still not sure why.

Now I was certain that I was going crazy. First my episode with the church, then I saw her at the club, and now here. Although if she was what insanity looked like then I think I could learn to live with it, could learn to love it even.

Shit where did that come from? Love? She's probably not even real, but, I don't know, she feels real. I looked at her and even though she hasn't said anything I know how conflicted she is, how much regret and worry there is, but also the kindness.

That's it. Her heart feels kind, as if she would feel guilty if she made a single person cry.

Maybe thats the appeal.

Appeal? Appeal to who? It's not like she's famous or anything, she's not even real, so where did the notion of appeal come from?

'Yeah sure.' I said, shaking my head, no time to get lost in thought over a-probably-all-in-my-head girl.

'Then act like it.' Neo said, punching my shoulder.

Ow, damn she had a good swing.

'Welcome to my 'umble abode.' Piggy said.

He lead the four of us; crater face, rat face, Neo, and myself, into his dingy little flat.

He flicked a switch and two lights came on, only for one to immediately go back out again. The other was so weak it just sat up there flickering, providing just enough light for pitch black to become an island of light in a sea of murky shadows.

Honestly I'd expected worse. I'd been anticipating an army of cockroaches to be nestled in here or something, Piggy is so useless, he's stoned half the time and at clubs the rest.

Piggy waltzed over to his room, the rest of us all seated ourselves around his cheap table that was so scuffed and chipped that I think he might have picked it up from the tip. The chairs were all mismatched as well, I got an old plastic thing while Neo got a garden chair.

Piggy returned with the Hash in a ziplock plastic bag.

It looked strong, and bad, even by our barely-scrapping-by standards.

Piggy had promised it would give me another vision like the one with the church, and while that was probably true, it might also kill me along the way. And besides it seemed that I was having vision just fine without it, whether that was a good or bad thing remained to be to seen.

'Ere we go.' Piggy said, plonking it on the table.

Everyone else got the respective smoking apparatus out. Rat Face and Crater Face had bongs, while Neo had always been more of a 'wrap it yourself' kind of girl, a proceeded to do so.

'I think I'll give it a miss.' I said.

There was an uneasy feeling that had begun to settle in my stomach. I couldn't quite place it, but for some reason was unwilling to ignore it.

'Suit yourself.' Piggy said, having clearly forgotten about trying to induce another vision.

I sat back to watch. Stoned people were certainly fun to mess with, so this evening wouldn't necessarily be a loss.

…

I drove the van slowly down the street, fuck the tension is killing me.

Skyer next to me, with his dreadlocks poorly stuffed beneath his balaclava. His breathing was far calmer than mine, some meditation shit I think. I don't know, he says he's a Buddhist, but he said he was a vegan last week but had a mince pie this one, so I don't know how long it'll actually last.

This was all planned out, we'd storm the store, armed with assault rifles, take all the shit, get out, drive away on the motorbikes we stored in an alley or if we didn't have time we'd take this van.

I couldn't shake the bad feeling I had about this job, that miracle, or vision, or dream, or episode, or whatever shit it's called made me nervous. There was no way it was coincidental that it happened in the middle of confession, the lord had to be sending me a message.

But it's too late to back out now, shit.

I kept my eyes on the road icy road, if I don't focus on the bad feeling I was getting about this job then it would be all ok, well that's what I tell myself anyway.

I love Berlin in the winter, all the old black gothic buildings took on a new life, a strange deathly parlour that gave them far more intensity and power than they had the rest of the year.

The traffic was relatively heavy, that was going to be a great blessing, or extreme curse, depending on how this played out. On the one hand it could slow police reaction, but on the other it could slow our escape.

The moments before a job begins are the strangest. It's like you're in a bubble away from reality. The people walking on the side of the street, all rugged up with breaths like chain smokers didn't have a clue what was about to happen. They weren't thinking about police reaction times and best back up escape plans. No, they were just going about their days, thinking about their kids, or dinner, or overdue bills.

The van was it's own reality, and those inside were forced to adhere to the different values that existed as a result.

'Fuck I could go for a chocolate.' I muttered.

'Pull this off and you can buy as much chocolate as you want.' Roy, our hacker, whispered in my ear via the earpiece.

Yeah fuck you too.

You're not in any danger, you just sit back with all your computers and fucking taps some keys.

We're the ones with our lives and freedom on the line.

If this goes wrong you just fade back into society, but we could end up in prison you little shit.

We reached the target, I pulled over, parking the van exactly where would need it in two minutes time.

'We're here.' Skyre said into his throat mike.

'All good.' Roy whispered back, I'm taking care of the alarms now, you can start heading in.

There was no time to get tense, to worry about what might happen now.

I stepped out of the van along with Skyre, had my carbine in hand and a large duffle bag over my shoulder.

I paused to take a slow breath.

A second later I was charging towards the front door of the jewellery store.

Now I got really nervous, I should be used to it, fuck I've done this often enough, but in the moments before the shit hits the fan I always nearly lose it. Just a bad habit of mine, but you can never really escape fear I've found out.

I made the sign of the cross, prayer a quick prayer, and pushed through the glass doors.

'Alright everyone stay calm this is a robbery, get on the floor.' Skyre called out from next to me, sounding extremely calm.

I dunno how the fuck he does it, must have been the meditating shit he did in the back of the van, I should get him to show me. While he may be able to stay perfectly calm, all that nervous energy that had begun to leak a moment ago exploded outwards. It all seemed ridiculous now, how could this not go wrong, god we're a bunch of fucking idiots.

'If any of you picks move, I'm gonna execute every last fucking one of you.' I screamed.

Roy didn't seem to care about my apparent rage, I guess being on the other side of the city really detaches you from the fear, but I got a strange glance from Skyre as he passed me.

Fucker thought I was being too loud.

I shrugged, could have been a lot worse.

Skyre, and I darted around the store quickly, smashing the glass displays and sweeping all the jewellery inside into the duffle bags.

Roy it seemed, had not fucked up this time, the alarm stayed quiet as a corpse.

The one security guard moved toward the panic button, but I caught him out of the corner of my eyes. I snapped around, no second chances on a job like this, nailed him with a single bullet through the head.

The store occupants screamed but quickly fell silent when I glared at them. I retuned to the smashing the store displays, making my contribution to the melody of tinkling glass.

In two minutes we had the store cleared, every last jewel swept into a duffle bag. We grinned savagely at each other, now just to get away. We marched back out of the store confidently.

'What could go wrong?' I asked.

I really shouldn't have asked that question, because the moment we stepped out of the store, shit hit the fan.

…

'We good here L?' Aiber asked.

He and Wedy gave me a questioning glance.

I assessed their work.

They had been loading all the meth into the back of the truck, this was the biggest shipment we'd ever made. Margo, one of the area's biggest buyers had just recently fallen out with her other supplier, the Bikey gang 'The Black Angels' and as a result our organisation was contacted.

We're only a small outfit, just the three of us operating out of an old cafe, but regardless we took the job.

I checked my watch, we were running perfectly on time.

I stepped out of the shade the store provided, and moved toward the truck.

It certainly is hot here at Desert Shores. I miss the mildness of England, the weather over there is so polite and rarely as abusive as the constant sun here. Within two days of moving here my feet had become blackened underneath, perhaps I sign I should weather shoes. It's a sign I decided to ignore.

Now, a year on, I'm fairly sure that those black marks will never go away.

I glanced back at the lab. Yes, from the outside the store certainly looked like a dump. The inside wasn't much better, one half mould, one half rotten, and all covered in grime. But you can't expect much better when you're cooking meth, you certainly can't expected the cutting edge technology I used to get to play with back at Harvard.

Before getting fired that was.

As I seated myself in the passenger seat, Wedy was driving, I never learnt how, I saw him.

He looked so out of place here, a tiny boy, reminiscent of myself when I was a child, dressed in white pyjamas with white socks, twirling white hair around a pale finger. He couldn't look more out of place if he tried.

 _Nate_.

That's his name.

How do I know that? I'm uncertain. This is much like that image I saw of the man in the church…

Then the boy, Nate, was gone. He'd floated into my world, like a mirage, and just as quickly he had vanished. But I could still detect slightly what he was thinking, his mind worked so fast. And his emotions, he tried to suppress them like I do, but they were still there, frustration seemed to be dominant.

Who was he? And what is happening to me?

…

It's a strange experience, being sober while your mates are hitting cloud nine.

The entire room was filled with a low hanging cloud of smoke, I was getting off on it there was so much, but not nearly enough to stop me from being able to focus.

Through the haze I could make out the others, all off in their own little happy places.

Piggy was rummaging around through his bag, searching for something. He was so out of it that he seemed just to be struggling with the zip.

Crater Face was giggling at something, who knew what. It was probably the 'funny pink men flying around our heads' or some equally kooky shit that was tickling his funny bone right now.

Rat Face was sound asleep, passed on face down on the table.

And Neo, well some things never change, certainly not her. You can never cure her of a sour expression, I'd only seen her smile three times over five years of friendship. Her eyes were wondering distractedly, and her head was swaying from side to side, but otherwise she was her normal self.

Piggy let out a low grunt, clearly the challenge of the bag was proving too much for his poor hash-addled brain.

I rolled my eyes, I'm not sure where Piggy picked up this shit, but it was something sure it would induce another vision, but that probably had never been their goal, they just wanted to get high with some mates more likely.

I couldn't make out exactly why the zip on the bag was giving Piggy so much grief, it was pretty hard to see anything between the dim lighting, cloud of smoke, and dark tint on my goggles. I refused on principle to remove my goggles unless it was for something incredible, like that blonde girl at the club, so instead I stood and walked over to Piggy.

He needed some help.

Desperately.

'Need help with the bag?' I asked.

'Piggy needs help with a lot of things.' Neo mumbled. 'His IQ for a start.'

I rolled my eyes, she never lets up.

'No, no, Piggy mumbled incoherently, I've nearly got it.'

He had the zip half open, and was slowly working away at the other half, still, at this rate he'd take another minute at least.

It was too painful watch. I reached for the bag to do it for him, but he batted my hand away quickly.

'No.' He yelled. 'You can't.'

'Woah calm down.'

'He'll kill me if you see…'

Typical Piggy, probably carting something a bit more than a little illegal for someone else. He was always a little paranoid and the drugs didn't do him any favours. But what did he think I would do, snitch? I'm not like that and he knew it.

I grabbed the bag and pulled at it gently, expecting Piggy to give way in a moment.

'No.' He yelled again.

Now I was worried, the bag felt heavy, too heavy for any of the usual drugs. It felt like there was brick inside, so must've gotten so much of something that if he was caught he'd get himself put away from drug trafficking. Still, the idea that he couldn't trust me was insulting, I had to find out what was in there now.

I pulled harder and his hand gave way.

'No, give it back, he'll fucking kill me.' Piggy yelled.

Neo groaned and muttered something, probably incredibly crude, under her breath. Crater Face started to laugh at our antics, Piggy was half on top of me, trying to get the bag back. But this was no laughing matter, something was seriously fucked up here. I ripped open the bag, expecting a block of meth to fall out.

It wasn't meth.

It was a sawn off shotgun.

'No.' Piggy yelled.

I fell backwards, away from the weapon, shielding myself in case the drop caused it to fire.

It didn't, thank god, but if I was even a little stoned before I was sober now.

So too, it seemed, was Neo, who stood quickly, a horrified expression on her face.

'Holy shit Piggy.'

He wasn't listening, instead he knelt down and picked up the shotgun. The only thing worse than a loose shotgun was a shotgun in the hands of a paranoid idiot who was off-his-tits-high. What the fuck did he even need it for?

'Put that down.' Neo yelled. 'What the hell do you think you're doing?'

'I'm sorry, he's making me.' Piggy said.

'Who? What? Piggy put the gun do-'

I didn't get a chance to finish the sentence because the next moment Piggy had spun around and pulled the trigger.

The sound of the gun in the confined space was deafening, it was like ten cars backfiring at once. The shell carved through the air and ripped through RatFaces head. The sleeping idiot was killed immediately, the back of his skull torn open, blood and brains spraying across the table, wall, floor, and over Neo like a deranged Jackson Pollack painting.

I didn't know what to do, why the fuck did Piggy shoot him?

Where the fuck did he get a shotgun from?

Who was making him do this?

I didn't have long to think because Piggy was already turning, pointing the gun at the giggling Crater Face, the moron was so fucked up he didn't even realise that he was about to be killed.

'Shit, Piggy!' I yelled, leaping up, hoping my words would be enough to stop him, because I knew that I would never get there in time.

The words weren't enough.

Piggy pulled the trigger and blasted a hole straight through Crater Face's chest with another sickening boom. The blast was so strong that Crater Face's still smiling corpse was propelled backwards, the chair tipping and hitting the floor with a dull thump.

Piggy turned back, started to point the gun at Neo.

For the first time since he picked up the bloody weapon I saw his face.

It was expressionless, as if hypnotised, or in some kind of trance. But what stuck me most were his eyes. They were alive, terrified. It was almost like Piggy's body was being controlled, but the real Piggy was still inside, watching.

Piggy raised the shotgun at Neo, began to pull the trigger.

I knew what I had to do, and crash tackled Piggy, pushing him to the ground as hard and fast as I could. The shotgun went off as we fell, the shell tearing a great big hole into it. Neo screamed and toppled backwards as Piggy and I fell sideways.

We hit the ground with a jarring thump, the shotgun was dislodged from his grip.

He began to struggle for it, writhing around on the ground maniacally, as if a demon was possessing him and his only goal was to get to that fucking weapon. I held him as best I could but he was stronger than me. I pulled at his shirt, trying to hold him back. He turned, punched me square in the face and while I was still seeing stars, picked up the weapon and turned to face me.

'Carnivore sends regards.' He said, his voice monotonous, trance like.

I thought he was about to point the gun at me.

I was certain that this was the end of the line.

But he didn't and it wasn't.

Instead he opened his mouth and jammed the gun in and pulled the trigger.

His body collapsed, brains and blood painted the wall.

I sat there, gasping for air, shaking violently.

It had all been so quick, taking no longer than fifteen seconds.

In fifteen seconds two people had been murdered in cold blood and then their murderer fucking shot himself. It had all been so mechanical, like someone was operating Piggy's body. But his eyes had still been Piggy, wide eyed and afraid, up until the very last second.

Had he been aware of what he was doing? Was his body out of his control? It must have been that. He would have known he was about to shoot himself and been unable to do anything about it.

'Jesus Christ.' I whispered.

…

The moment we stepped out of the jewellery store there were four shots. They seemed distant and far off like an echo, but they had been enough. They were scattered over maybe fifteen seconds but all I needed was the first one.

I heard it, and with my nerves as on edge as they were, I jumped a fucking meter and turned quickly to look up the street.

And that's what saved us.

Because there were three bloody cop cars tearing down the road toward us, still a good two hundred meters off but closing fast. I don't know if a cop had fired, a car backfire, or fucking what, but that noise, whatever it was, saved our god damn skins.

'Shit.' I yelled, the second distant gunshot going off.

I bolted for the van, Skyre , who noticed the cars a second after me, followed suit.

We'd parked motorbikes two alleys down and the original plan had been to use them, but the plan had just gone out the fucking window.

'What?' Roy asked through the earpiece.

'Fucking cops.' I yelled back.

'Shit.' Roy said. 'But the alarm was off.'

'I guess fucking not.' I yelled, starting the van.

The third gunshot sounded, maybe it was the van backfiring, who fucking knows, I certainly was in no rush to find out. The engine turned over and began to hum. I threw the old van into gear and began to drive.

Good thing I'd gotten to the van first, I'm the best fucking driver here, Skyre wouldn't make it a hundred meters, and Roy's lost four licenses in three years. I went from first to second and then second to third with a crunch, the tyres skidded on the ice for a moment. The van was accelerating quickly but the cop were hot on our six.

'This is on you.' I yelled at Roy.

'But the alarm was off.'

'I guess bloody not, how else could this happen?'

'But-'

'Making a fucking excuse later.' I interrupted. 'But for now shut the fuck up, I'm trying to save this job.'

We tore down the road at a speed that was dangerously fast. The corner was coming up in a hundred meters, but I began the turn now, spinning the wheel as hard as I could, the van skidding down the icy road.

…

God, that briefing went on forever.

Time felt like it was stagnating in that room. But outside the world had still been turning. The bleak day had slowly given way to another cold night. Even in the middle of the evening LA never slept.T he portrait fake cleanliness just gave way to the real image of the city. Greasy folks walked littered streets, bathed in Neon lights in the city centre or slinking through a darkness spotted by the occasional lamp.

It was all dark and slime, gutter running with the muck of humanity.

In the daylight you could almost convince yourself that the city was beautiful but at night you were reminded if it's true colours.

True Colours.

There seems to be a lot of that going round at the moment, well not a lot, but enough.

After all I thought I knew Raye, I thought I knew myself, but apparently I don't know that much about either.

How could Raye have been alive until a few days ago? And why didn't he talk to me about it? And what am I? Who was that boy and how did I talk to him?

I searched the shelves at the Gas Station for my favourite type of chocolate, Twix.

The interior of this gas station was just like every other one, scrubbed clean a thousand times but still feeling undeniably dirty. All the shelves were cramped, barely enough room to walk between them, and packed with junk food, overpriced bottled water, and magazines. There was even a bored looking man behind the counter, just to top off the cliches.

You can't really blame him for being bored though, working at a gas station at 10pm on a weekday was no ones idea of a good time.

'Naomi.'

I spun around to find the owner of the voice. I recognised her immediately, that dark chocolaty skin and beautiful face like an African queen was all too familiar.

Ariadne.

The woman from the briefing.

She looked perfectly normal, that's one of the things that gets me every time.

You see these pictures of terrorists and you always assume that in the flesh they'll be demonic and terrifying, but she seemed normal, just like a neighbour next door. She approached me until we were no more than a meter apart, flanked on both sides by different brands of chips.

'Naomi Pember.' She said, no so much as a question but a confirmation of a fact she already knew.

'You-' I said, unsure what to do.

Was she dangerous? Was she going to hurt me? Help me? Whose side was she on? Were there even sides or was I just paranoid, hell with everything going on I wouldn't blame myself for winding up paranoid.

'There isn't much time, there's a plane leaving in an hour and I must be on it.' She said quickly.

'You're not going anywhere.'

'There is a boy, Nate, he is in danger.' She said, ignoring me.

'Whats going on?' I asked, sounding more hostile than was entirely necessary, but I didn't care, this situation was already out of my control, I just wanted to wrangle some back. 'Did you have something to do with Raye?'

'I'm not the enemy.'

'There's quite a few governments including this one that say you are.'

If I was feeling out of depth before than I felt, like I was swimming in an ocean now with no land on the horizon.

What control do I have?

My gun.

It was strapped to my leg just as regulations say to do.

It was a Beretta m9, hardly the most powerful pistol, but it serves me well enough, and was concealable, perfect for a situation like now.

How many bullets?

10, easily enough to take down this woman.

'We have very little time.' Ariadne said. 'I know you are contemplating using that gun strapped to your leg, but I am on your side.'

'Gun?' The clerk said, going from disinterested to alarmed in a second.

'Can you see her?' I asked, seeking to confirm that this was real and not just another vision.

The clerk nodded, obviously confused as to why I'd ask a question. The poor guy, he couldn't have been older than seventeen, with pimples covering his unshaved chin. He was wide eyed, on high alert, one hand probably on the phone, ready to call if this went south.

'Listen-' Ariadne started.

'Tell me what the hell is going on?' I demanded. 'Who are you?'

'I think you already know what's going on.' Ariadne said calmly. 'You are no longer just you.'

'What's that meant to mean?'

'The vision.' Ariadne said. 'Except they're not really vision are they? More like a visitation. They've already started. You saw Raye die and you saw another, the boy, Nate.'

This woman seemed to know an awful lot about my recent activity, almost too much.

Then I remembered, she's a known associate of terrorists, whatever she says can't be trusted.

'Have you been following me?' I demanded, trying to sound confident.

'Not exactly, just keeping tabs.'

'How?'

'That's a long explanation and we don't have time, I must be leaving-'

'You don't leave until I say you do.'

Good, stall. Keep her here, she seems to have answers to what's been happening to me, but it seems complicated.

I need more time to talk to her. Perhaps if I bring her into custody, I'll be able to interview her, get more answers.

'Don't.' She said, as if she knew what I was thinking.

I reached for my gun, as fast as I could. She was one step ahead, bringing her leg up to land a solid kick. I'd been expecting this, as I ducked and reached for my gun with one hand I raised my other arm, to block the kick. But she was stronger than I was expecting, the kick landed and sent me crashing into the shelf next to me.

I was dazed but shook it off and stood to go after her.

She was already in the carpark sprinting for a car.

I drew my weapon and ran after her.

'Should I call the cops?' The clerk asked, his voice cracking.

'I am a cop.'

I ran outside, this Ariadne woman was fast, already driving out of the car park with a loud squeal of rubber on road.

I fired two shots after her, but she was already moving too fast.

Damn. I'll have to pursue her, I'm not that great of a driver.

I made for my car, a bright blue Renault Alpine.

It was far too flashy for a poor driver like me, but Raye had loved that make and model so we wound up getting one. Now these days Raye was gone but I still had the damn car, I kept meaning to sell it for something else, but who has the time?

I pulled open the door, Ariadne was a red blur already halfway down the street, turned the car on, stuck it in reverse. Stupid thing was a manual, I'll never forgive Raye for it.

There was no time for a three point turn so I navigated my way through and out onto the road all in reverse, nearly rear ending a dozen cars as I went.

My tyres bumped off the driveway and onto the street.

I turned the wheel, swung the car around.

Clutch in, first gear, clutch out.

I tore down the street. As I accelerated, tearing through the gears, I saw Ariadne make a turn.

'You're not getting away.'

…

'God fucking damn!'

I pushed down on the accelerator, the van tearing down the street at over a hundred kilometres an hour.

The police were hot on our tail, the trio of cars, and now a pair of bikes, had their sirens blaring, the blue and red lights dancing over the ice.

For all my speed and deft driving the police were slowly but surely catching up. I checked the side mirror again, the cars couldn't be more than a hundred meters behind now, close enough for me to make out that one of the drivers eyes were hidden by a pair of sunglasses.

There was a flash from one of the cars, a distant popping sound, the rear view mirror disappeared, one moment it was there the next it was gone.

'Fuck they're shooting at us.' I yelled.

I span the wheel, swerving on the road as more bullets buzzed past, ricocheting off the side of the van like stones off a tin roof and taking bites out of the icy road.

It was a choice of two evils now. Either I could swerve and dodge, making us a difficult target but slowing out escape. Or I could stay straight, try to outdrive them, but give them a veritable shooting range.

'Fuck.'

…

The rear lights on Ariadne's car were like two red eyes, glowing in the night. I turned and swerved after her, following her round every corner, down every alley.

I should call for back up, thats the regulation, but I'm not going to do that.

If she gets caught by someone else I won't be able to talk to her, and I need her to explain what's going on.

If only I were a better driver, I can't keep up with her.

'Don't do this Naomi.'

Ariadne was there, in the passenger seat, as if she had just teleported there.

'What the fuck.' I screamed.

'If you aren't willing to step forward, you'll never get to where you need to go.'

This is no time for god damn philosophy, how could she be so calm, how did she get here? No I know that one, it was like with that boy in the church— shit.

I swerved, to avoid running onto the curb, knocking a bin over as a did.

'I must be losing my mind.' I whispered.

'No.' Ariadne said. 'It's just expanding.' Then she added casually. 'Watch out.'

Then she was gone, as quickly as she arrived, vanishing quicker then a changing channel.

I looked back to the front. The red eyes swerved, darting around a large truck going through an intersection.

I had three seconds at most, shit.

I slammed the brakes, but I knew that wouldn't be enough.

I was going to hit the truck.

I need a better driver…

…

 _'I need a better driver…'_

One moment I was driving down the street one moment, middle of the day.

The next I was somewhere else.

It was the middle of the night, I was in a car, oldish by design, a classic, only five gears including reverse.

Fucking shit, what the hell is going on.

I had no time to get my bearings, the car was charging toward a truck, it was about to collide!

My foot was already on the break, except it wasn't my foot, it was almost as if I was inhabiting some else body, but that wasn't really my fucking focus at this point in time. I pushed harder on the break and wrenched hard on the steering wheel.

The car span with squealing wheels and came to a halt just centimetres away from the truck, a near collision avoided.

'Mello what the fuck is going on?' Skyre yelled.

I blinked, now I was back in the van.

What the fuck is happening? I'm losing my god damn mind.

The van was at a total stop, having spun to a halt just like the car in where-ever-the-fuck my vision took place.

The three police cars had shot past us, going too fast to stop in time, and were now turning quickly to come back at us. The bikes it seemed, had not been so lucky, one having driven off the road and the other shaving slammed into the van. I hope they fucking died, serves them right, we were just trying to steal in peace.

I searched for an escape, my eyes darting around. The next intersection was a good two hundred meters away, and there were no alleys, just dozens of tiny little boutique stores.

Jesus Christ we're fucked.

…

I had survived, for a moment there it was like my body had been taken over, another, far better driver who managed to pull the car to a screeching stop.

I guess these connections went beyond just visions but into complete control as well.

Damn it, Ariadne was getting away, I had to catch up.

She said she had a flight to catch, so she was headed for the airport.

I have one advantage over her, I know this city better than she ever will. If I could get to the next entrance on the freeway I could catch up. Which means, that the best route to catching her would be…

Straight ahead.

 _'Jesus Christ we're fucked.'_

That voice echoed in out of nowhere, was it the person who had taken over from me a moment before? The miracle driver who saved my skin? Perhaps, who knows.

I slammed the car into gear and shot straight off the mark, charging down the alley with the car engine roaring.

And then, for a few seconds I was somewhere else.

It was cold and icy, a dull grey day, the sky was drowsy with clouds.

I was at the wheel of a van, or not me exactly, us.

That's what Ariadne had said, I am no longer just me.

This was someone else, and we are seperate, but our minds are connected, and just for this moment it seems we're so close that we can control each others bodies.

My actions back in the car seemed to have rolled over here, the van shot forward, straight towards a small boutique store.

'Shit Mello!' A balaclava clad man said from next to me.

Mello, so that's who this person is.

I assessed the store, it was small, a tiny little thing. It's glass front was framed with white painted wood, looking more like a dolls house than a real building. And it was very old, probably not that sturdy. And old buildings tended to back out onto alleys.

I assessed all this and judged in a split second, my mind racing fast, or time slowing down, whichever one.

I pushed down on the peddle.

'Brace yourself.' I shouted.

The van crashed through the front window of the store, the entire van jolting around violently.

And in that moment I was thrown back to my car, back in LA.

I was at the end of the road, approaching my first turn.

I made it, barely, swinging the car hard and almost hitting the light post, but I made it.

And I knew, that I also made the turn back in van, I couldn't see it, but I could feel it. The relief, of that man, Mello.

My control must have been lingering just enough for me to make the quick turn into the alley. Mello, thanks to my help, had escaped, and not crashed the van.

Now, after Ariadne.

…

'Jesus fucking christ Mello, what the fuck were you thinking?' Skyre shouted at me.

My body had just been controlled. That process, where I had steered that car using some else body had just been reversed. It seemed we were each others fucking saviours.

Now, to get away from the cops.

Through the wreckage that was once the store I could see the police pull to a halt, they were about to try and chase us on foot thinking we had nowhere to go.

Fuck, I don't know what to do.

 _'They're going to try and form a perimeter.'_

That voice felt so real, was it the woman in the car? It must have been, thats the only explanation. Naomi, that's her name, no time to think about how I knew that.

'So what should we do?' I asked.

'How should I fucking know?' Skyre replied, obviously I was the only one who could hear Naomi.

 _'Driver down the alley, take the first turn. Switch to the first car you see, take off your balaclavas, and then drive away like you had nothing to do with this.'_

I put the van into gear, shot off down the alley. She was like a guardian angel, a guardian angel with a good deal of knowledge about the fucking police. And it seemed I was hers. Apparently god can make miracles happen.

I turned, saw a car. I got out, broke the window. The keys were in the ignition, thank fuck.

Skyre, followed me, and a second later we were driving out of the alley and down the road as if we were just two friends out for a Sunday drive.

Two police cars passed us, headed to make the perimeter that Naomi had spoken about, she'd saved our fucking necks.

'Thank you Saint Naomi.' I whispered, pulling my rosary out of my pocket and kissing it.

'Who?' Skyre asked.

'Long story.'

…

 _'Thank you Saint Naomi.'_

That was Mello, apparently my insiders knowledge had saved his stupid criminal neck.

I wasn't too sure about Saint, but I could get used to it.

Now, back my own chase.

I was getting close now- there! I charged up onto the freeway, even at this late hour it was still relatively packed with traffic. And there, one car in front of me, were the red eyes of Ariadne's car. I'd caught up!

I pushed on the peddle even harder, pushing the car to it's absolute limits, I had to stay close.

She was able to 'visit' me, use my mind to appear next to me, converse with me. So it only stands to reason that I should be able to reverse the process. This whole psychic link thing seems kind of like a door.

And doors, once open, go both ways.

Concentrate.

All of a sudden I was sitting in the passenger seat of her car, it was a nice leather, the whole interior looked sharp and modern.

'Ah, so you've found out that the connection works both ways.' She said.

Unlike me, she seemed quite at ease with her speed, no more concerned than if she were taking a leisurely drive.

But I could do what I did with that Mello, control her body, take over her body, make her park the car, end this stupid chase.

I focused on that, entering her mind, but I couldn't. With Mello I'd just been able to slip in, but with her it was like there was a wall, or a chasm. I was sitting with her, could pick up traces of her feelings. She was feeling stressed, but unlike with Mello or Near it was faint, nothing was clear.

'You can't inhabit my mind like you did with Mello.' She said casually. 'That ability only works with people in your cell.'

'My cell?'

'Yes. But before I explain, let me ask you a question.'

'This really isn't the time.'

'I'm afraid its urgent.'

This woman was impossible, how could she be so carefree in a life or death situation, it doesn't make sense.

'If you're here talking to me.' She said. 'Who's driving your car?'

Shit. We'd been going along a straight, but a bend was coming up.

I focused back on my body, and in a second I returned, once more at the wheel of my car.

I turned, making the bend a second before I crashed into the concrete.

Ariadne used that moment to pull ahead slightly. She was four cars in front, arrowing for the next off ramp, it led to the airport.

I urged the car forward, I couldn't let her get away, it just wasn't going to happen.

I closed the gap, the moved toward to the off ramp, closer, closer, closer. If I couldn't take over her body to make her stop I'd have to do it by force.

Closer closer- shit, too far.

The low hood of my car slammed into the side of hers pushing hers. The two cars span out of control, ricocheting down the off ramp,

I came to a stop, my car having slid down the ramp quicker than hers.

I sat there dazed, probably concussed for a moment, but the sound of metal bashing and scraping on bitchumen caught my attention. The force of impact from my car hitting hers had caused Ariadne's it to lift off the ground and begin to roll. And it was still rolling, straight for me!

There was nothing I could do, no time, the last thing I saw was her car looming in my vision, about to crash into me.

…

All afternoon the voices wouldn't stop, they echoed through my mind, distant but real.

They were like the visions, unquantifiable in every sense of the word, but unequivocally real.

With no hard evidence I could tell that they were real.

I sat crouched in the middle of my room, slowly stacking a city of dice. Doing such things helps me concentrate on my thoughts. Soon, without much conscious knowledge of it happening, I had created a metropolis around myself. Thousands of dice each marked with little black dots that stood out against the unending white of the room.

 _'There is a boy, Nate, he is in danger.'_

Me. One of the voices knew about me. I had no evidence to confirm that it was indeed I who was in danger.

Just a sense.

These things, these visions, they had been focusing in around me, around a select group of people.

No.

I had no proof, but there was no doubt in my mind.

Whoever had said those words knew of me, and if that was the case then I am indeed in danger. But what kind?

 _'Carnivore sends regards.'_

That voice had been accompanied by gunshots.

Who is Carnivore?

The man that is also putting me in danger?

If our minds are connected as I suspect then it stands to plausible reason that other factors will arise that unify us, whoever we are.

This Carnivore, that name seems familiar.

Yes, the man in the church. Before he shot himself he spoke of a Carnivore, the same person or group now?

 _'You are no longer just you.'_

Confirmation of my suspicions.

I, the woman I met in the Church, Naomi, and the man from the Desert Town, L, we are connected.

There are others, I'm certain.

I've been experiencing other things, sensations or emotions, that sweep over me like a phantom and disappear just as quickly.

How many of us are there?

Who are they?

How did this occur?

What does it entail?

Are we all in danger or is it just me?

I began to twirl a lock of hair around my finger, feeling the soft hair rotate against my pale skin. For so long I have been trapped in here. Diagnosed insane when I am not, all because the only thing I can say is Near.

But not now, these people, if they are connected to me then they will understand, they could help me escape, surely. For the first time in years I knew that I had hope, a possibility of a future outside of this asylum with its white walls.

But I am in danger…

The door swung open, I turned to see who was entering.

My Doctor entered, two 'security personnel' with him.

I was being moved somewhere, that is the only explanation. They never have security unless they are moving you and think you're a danger. Though I don't know why they would bother with security for me. Unlike some other people in this building I've never shown the slightest sign of aggression.

'Near.' The Doctor said with a fake smile. 'You're being moved to a hospital. You've been diagnosed with a serious brain disorder, but it is curable. However the surgery is still relatively new and untested, so you are being provided the entire service from free, understand?'

Understand?

I do.

This must be the danger that someone spoke of.

This is unjust.

Because I am insane I get to be someones test subject? If that's their goal at all.

The Doctors smile, his words, every part was a lie.

I have no condition, there is no surgery.

It's just a ruse.

I am in danger.

I have to resist, but how? I'm to small to physically resist, and all I can say is Near. I detest this condition, it's terrible, all I can say is Near! This is no time to get irrational, I have to bide my time, for now, until I find a way to escape.

I nodded and followed them out of the room.

* * *

 _A/N:_ _Oh me, Oh my this fic has long chapters! I don't mean for them to go on for so long, but they just kind of do! But on the other hand, this chapter was quite fun (if a little difficult at points) to write! The two car chases with Mello and Naomi were really great to write, and it's a bit of a preview into just what the characters are able to do with their psychic link. Also, the plots finally starting move, just a tad, but it's moving! Please leave a review with feedback, critique or support, I'm always looking to improve! And stay tuned for the next exciting chapter!_


	4. Two Fights

_A/N: And here it is! Another Chapter! I hope you guys enjoy, and thanks to any and all who reviewed!_

* * *

There was a series of knocks at the door.

Neo and I had been lying there in the aftermath, fresh blood still pouring from the bodies of Piggy, Crater Face, and Rat Face.

In the movies the heroes always seem bounce straight back from a shooting like this.

I don't know how.

I was a mess.

My legs felt sedated, my lungs deprived of oxygen, I had a strong urge to hurl, I felt guilty that I couldn't save my friends, betrayed by my mate Piggy, dirty for having witnessed the murder, and I was on the verge of crying. On top of that I knew that this was my fault. Bad things happen to the people around me, the more I care the more I loose. I'm like a reverse rabbit foot, bringing bad luck with me wherever I go. I didn't want to believe in that level of bullshit, but with every death I caused it seemed more undeniably true.

Suffice to fucking say, just like Piggy's apartment, I was a mess.

When the knocks came at the door I didn't do anything, I couldn't make my brain work properly, nothing was connecting properly, my thoughts as slow as a steamboat in a swap. Neo however, well they say friends balance you out somewhat, have qualities that you don't posses, and that's certainly true of her.

Despite the fact that she was the one who had almost been shot she seemed calm, well I say calm, a better way of putting it would be not a total fucking wreck. She stood, walked over to me, and slapped me hard across the face.

'Come on loser, we need to do something.'

'They're dead… they're all dead…' I said, rather unhelpfully, but at the time my mind really wasn't capable of thinking about much else.

'Ok, yeah, they're dead.' Neo said. 'But look on the bright side, at least we didn't make any new friends.'

Got to hand it to her, Neo has a knack for finding the most inappropriate thing to say in any given situation. And just as always I fell back to my default reaction of a disbelieving stare, normally I'd laugh as well, she's usually pretty funny in her own psychotic way, but this wasn't really a laughing matter.

'Jesus Neo.'

'Come on.' She said, pulling me up. 'We need to get out of here.'

I wobbled to my feet, my body was still slower than a bad internet connection and my legs were taking their sweet time to get into gear. Neo grabbed me around the arm, her grip so tight that one could easily mistake her intention for cutting off my circulation, and led me to the door. Her tight grip was a relief though, under her icy exterior she was just as shaky as me, its nice to know she's still human, even if she claims she's a witch, maybe she's the source of my bad luck, I wouldn't put it past her.

Apparently she didn't have a plan for what to do at the door, or how to make sure we weren't mistaken for murders. She, just like me, wanted to get the fuck out. We slowly wobbled through the slaughter house, Neo picking up our bag from the pile and slinging it over my shoulder.

As we passed a little side table where Piggy put the keys to his car that towed six moths ago, I saw a piece of paper, covered in writing, too neat to be Piggys. I picked it up without thinking.

As Neo dragged me through the door, we bumped past a little old woman with skin like a prune, probably the land lady, who'd obviously been woken up by the shot gun blasts.

Neo and I didn't wait around, we bolted for the stairwell, only to be perused a few seconds later by a horrified scream.

…

'Miss Tadaka.'

I checked my watch quickly, 5:29, Just one more minute until I could leave this cooperate hell and escape.

I couldn't wait to get out of my expansive office; filled with polished glass furniture and a view of half of Seoul, not to mention the annual pay check that was somewhere above 120'000'000 Won, or one million US as my father would say. After all, "the ways of the West are the ways of the best. At least that's how the world works according to him, forget having any faith in your own country, culture, or daughter for that matter.

An outsider might think I have it all, born into wealth and possessing of an enviable career. And that outsider would probably think it was selfish of me to have it all and want rid of it. Maybe the outsider would be right to think that. But I don't care whether I seem selfish or not, I didn't have the will to spare that thought.

No, the only thing I could think about was that insatiable need to fight, to smell sweat and blood, to beat my opponent down, surrounded by a hundred cheering onlookers who had no idea that I was probably helping their insurers screw them over.

'Yes?' I replied.

I gave my assistant a quick glance, she only came to talk to me in person if it was important, which would inevitably cut into my free time. She looks about as happy to be here as I, her expression said it all, that smile was about as ironed as that cheap white shirt.

'The FSS called.' She said. 'They asked that you call back as soon as possible about the Family Trust Accounts and-' She looked down at the scrap of paper she'd hastily written on. '-the insurance return benefit balance.'

Well there it is.

The elaborate web my brother had been weaving is about to come unraveled because one plucky auditor found the right string to pull at. I tried to find the motivation to care but this was his mess. I'd noticed the money disappearing six months ago, and if it was that easy for me to find, then he was clearly too stupid to properly cover his tracks. So if I was to care, to be sympathetic, it would be because of the stupidity of my brother, rather than the stickiness of the situation he found himself in.

'Tell them I'll call them back tomorrow.' I said.

Yes, tomorrow.

Whilst it is a Saturday I would still be coming in to work, doing exactly what I did every other day, which is clean up the mess that everyone else made. After all mess is a trail and the trail could lead to the web, and if someone found the web then the whole company would be in danger. I checked my watch again, 5:30, time to go.

I stood, leaving my desk in a cluttered mess rather than cleaning it up like usual, the only thing on my mind was getting down to the fighting ring and bashing someones face in.

'They're not calling.' My assistant said. 'They're waiting outside.'

'Tell them to come back in trading hours.' I replied.

'Miss Tadaka-'

'I'm leaving.' I said with finality.

…

'Ok, we're onto block four.' Emily's pitch voice said in my ear. 'Camera Two in: five, four, three, two, and we're live.'

I span to face the second camera, my chair gave a little bit of resistance, it's going to need fixing or better yet replacing.

I have to say, working with Emily was proving to be only mildly painful. Those years of separation gave me time to forget all her good qualities, like her quick wit, intelligence, aptitude for the News industry.

Max would never have decided to run the next segment, 'not relevant to the average American' he'd have said, but he's too narrow minded. You've got to have a different view of things.

'Welcome back to ECN live.' I said to the camera, hundreds of thousands of Americans would be watching on the other end, millions soon if the ratings kept shooting up like they've been over this week. 'In recent International news there has been a spike in crime rates in Europe. Today in Berlin a branch of the jewellery store 'Stolz Juweliere' was robbed by a pair of armed assailants who escaped, causing subsequent property damage in the ensuing chase. In Italy train was bombed with deadly nerve gas and in London a triple homicide. Police in all three countries are currently searching for the perpetrators of these crimes. To talk about the issue we have Professor of International Affairs from the University of Michigan, Dr Fred Basco, Crime analyst, Rita Queen, and current anti-gun activist Scot McFadrenhardgensargen.'

Really Emily, couldn't we have gotten someone with a less ridiculous name? And an anti-gun activist as well? You're practically begging for this to be turned into a city hall debate on gun rights, because that topic has been "so" neglected on the news. I'm certain the audience will be simply fascinated by arguments they've heard a thousand times before. Jesus Christ, A+ for redundancy at ECN.

'My first question goes to Dr Basco. In the wake of the recent Paris attacks do you think that these crimes could be a result of heightened tensions in Europe?'

Now to just let them go at it, jeez, under these lights I could really do with a cup of water.

It had taken less than ten seconds but already the three of them had already devolved into mindless arguing. Apparently someone had mentioned that these crimes could be ISIS related, as if. Anyone with a half an education, which these three lack judging by their inane squawking, would be able to tell you that ISIS has nothing to do with this.

None of the attacks match their M.O nor do they seem to serve any particular objective for their organisation. More likely they're just three unrelated incidents, testament of a dangerous crime wave rather than an insidious terrorist organisation.

Well, Emily picked these guests. I know I'm meant to approve them, but I should also be able to trust her to do a good job without my having to constantly micromanage the situation. This just reminded me why we broke it off. Well one of the reasons for why we broke it off. Between her inconsistent news, obnoxious personality, the affairs, and my… undisclosed reasons, we really were on a path of destined destruction.

'Light, intervene.' Emily whispered in my ear.

I stared down the camera at her, maybe if Charlie saw she was no better than Max I could get a different EP, one with whom I shared less history preferably.

'Damn it Light Yagami!' She yelled. 'Do something!'

I just smirked slightly, wished I had a mug to sip from arrogantly.

I knew I was probably going to regret this but I couldn't help myself. Despite her lovely soliloquy about 'Improving the news' and what not, she was still no better than anyone else.

Time for her to eat her words.

…

London in the early morning is kind of like smoke coming off a river on a cold day.

Things are moving, the world is slowly wiring into life under the meagre light of a not-yet-hot-enough sun. But everything feels still, as if it were part of a portrait. The footpaths already had the occasional person walking on it, some people leaving work, some returning, everyone bleary eyed, coffee's from shitty twenty-four hour excuses-for-coffee-shops in hand.

You see all sorts of characters in London, the polite upper-middle business people, all in not-ridiculously-expensive-but-not-fucking-far-off suits, with large black coats.

There's the builders, carpenters, pavers, plumbers, all dressed in high visibility vests, and yet they were so everyday that they blended seamlessly into London life.

Then you had the 'lads', unlike the well-spoken and polite English folk that everyone seems so willing to fawn over, these guys are the kind that you need an interpreter to understand, and if you said 'hello' would be more likely to return you with 'da fuck you think you're doin' mate? I'll stab you're fuckin' mum' than 'good day.' They were also the kinds of people Neo and I were friends with, not by choice, it's just what happens when you frequent four nightclubs a week.

The good thing about London having such a diverse cast is that nobody notices you if you look weird, because everyone does, so no one does.

Like now, Neo's shirt was still spattered with blood down one side, there was a bruise forming down my right arm from where I hit the floor tackling Piggy, and both of us still looked like we were suffering from sever shell-shock.

But no one cared about that, the woman at the bus stop just wanted to know if we could shift over to make space for her, the bus driver just wanted to know if we could pay the ticket fare, the street vendor at the stop we got off at just wanted to know if we wanted to buy some cheap shit-that-he-calls-food (we could and did), and everyone else just wanted to ignore us completely.

No one cared about anyone but themselves, and I suppose the same could be said for us.

We'd caught the bus without a destination in mind, we just wanted to get as far away from Piggy's god damn horror house of an apartment as we could on the four pound twenty we had between us. It hadn't taken us as far as we might have liked, I'm not sure about Neo, but I wanted to go to all the way out of town, but Canary Wharf was good for the meantime.

'Do you think the police are looking for us?' Neo asked.

'The lady saw us when we ran out.' I said.

'But do you think they know it's us?'

I'd thought about this, it was one of the things I'd managed to concentrate on. People are all selfish and it seemed I was no exception, because all I could think about was whether Neo and I were safe, and how close we'd come to going the same way as the others. I'd barely known Rat Face or Crater Face, but I still should have felt bad, and then wound up feeling bad because I didn't feel bad, but I think even that was a selfish feeling.

'No.' I said.

'How do you know?'

'I just have a feeling.'

That wasn't quite true, I'd actually had another vision, or incident, or connection, or whatever the hell it was. Until now I thought the girl and the man in the church were the only two, but this was someone else, they sounded kind of like a news person and they said:

 _"Today in Berlin a branch of the jewellery store 'Stolz Juweliere' was robbed by a pair of armed assailants who escaped, causing subsequent property damage in the ensuing chase. In Italy train was bombed with deadly nerve gas and in London a triple homicide. Police in all three countries are currently searching for the perpetrators of these crimes."_

And that language said to me that they didn't know who we were. That being said I wasn't sure if I could trust these people I kept seeing and hearing, but it was better than trusting no one at all.

'Piggy said 'Carnivore' sends his regards.' Neo said. 'Whose Carnivore and how did they make Piggy do those things?'

'How should I know?' I replied defensively.

'I don't know.' Neo replied, turning on her sarcasm. 'You're the one with new found psychic powers Gandalf.'

'You know, you use sarcasm to push people way.'

'And yet you're still here.'

'Ha ha.'

Normally we would have had a giggle, thrown a few insults back and forth, but not right now.

Right now all we could do is feel scared.

Scared because our friend had just shot two people and then himself, scared because someone had been powerful enough to make him do it, and scared because that person seemed to know who we, or at least, I was, and single me out. It had to be connected to these abilities, within a day of having them some anonymous figure is suddenly hunting me down.

'Just saying, Gandalf didn't have psychic powers, he used magic, we was a wizard not a warlock.'

'Well you're a loser and a nerd.' Neo retorted. 'God you're lame.'

She stood.

'Come on Matt, lets go home, get cleaned up.'

I stood and followed her.

I knew that after we'd done those things we'd have to start figuring out who 'Carnivore' was and what they wanted with us, but right now we had to focus on ourselves before we could focus on anything, or anyone, else.

…

The dusty landscape of Desert Shores passed as I viewed it through the grimy window of Aiber's pickup. It was an old bomb of a thing, barely passable as a vehicle of any sort, defiantly not passably roadworthy, but I doubt anyone in Desert Shores gets their car checked at all. Half of them wouldn't have the money, the other half wouldn't do it because the government would want them to do it, so therefore they were fundamentally opposed.

Aiber, who was driving wildly, was no exception, fitting into both categories. I paid him well, but he blew it on enough beer and meth to incapacitate an elephant, and he was so paranoid about the government that he didn't own a phone, and his computer was routed through seven fake servers. Wedy on the other hand wouldn't fit into either category, unlike most other people she had a relatively serviceable automobile, a small all-terrain buggy with a bonnet like a vultures nose. Wedy, who was dressed in a singlet and jeans, her booted feet on the dash and a book in hand, would not get her car checked because she, and I quote, 'doesn't give a fuck'.

I on the hand, do not own a car, but even if I did I wouldn't get it checked. I fell into another category again. It was the category of someone who was hiding from authorities and so tried to hide their name from all manner of records.

At any rate the three of us fitted perfectly with the strange zeitgeist of Desert Shores.

Everyone here either lived out of a caravan or a house that was so old and decrepit that it looked like a slight breeze would take it down, not that a breeze would be any worry, Desert Shores is so meteorologically stagnate that a cloud is viewed with the novelty of a rainbow.

'We're nearly there.' Aiber called out.

'There' was the meeting place for the exchange, the old limestone quarry that nowadays was just an ugly bite out of the ground, not mined for a decade. And the people we would be meeting there was Mac and Cheese. or if you were to call them by their actual names, which no one around here seems capable of doing, they would be called Mack McQueen and Chelsea Welsh.

That's another odd trend in Desert Shores, everyone had a nickname.

Wedy, for example, was actually Wendy, but I think everyone here is so lazy they just cut out the 'n'.

Aiber was called Albert Ber, but people thought that was a ridiculous name and decided that Aiber was far more sensible.

And then there was me, L, or Lawlite. People struggled to remember my name and floundered on it's pronunciation, so they decided to reduce me to a monosyllabic initial instead.

We pulled up in the quarry, Aiber pulling the pickup to skidding halt. He never could resist the call of testosterone.

Mac and Cheese were there, looking very anxious, which, if I were in their position, I would too. They were after all, switching suppliers, from 'Big Sal', whose bikers supplied half the region, and who 'reclaimed' any patrons they lost to the three of us, the plucky new kids on the block. But the simple fact of the matter was that we made better meth.

The exchange was quick, Mac and Cheese handed me the money, and Aiber and Wedy gave them the meth. Everything was going smoothly, the exchange took less than a minute.

We were about to return to our cars when we were interrupted by the thunder of engines.

Not a second later a dozen bikers rode into view, the twin wing insignia of 'The Black Angels' on the back of their leather jackets. And at their head was Big Sal, easily recognisable by his girth, which was triple that of any other biker.

'Shit.' Aiber said next to me.

I was silent, but shared his thoughts on the matter.

…

I stormed into our safe house.

It looked like a bomb went off, as usual, everyones clothes were scattered everywhere. The kitchen was a war zone of dirty dishes and empty food packets. Meanwhile the poor fucking excuse for a living room was strewn with empty pizza boxes and loose paper. And right in the middle of it was Roy. He sat there slouched on the sofa, drink in hand, computer on his lap, looking so fucking blasé about the fact that his own bloody ineptitude managed to nearly get us killed.

'Roy.' I shouted, dumping my bag of stolen jewels the moment I walked through the door. 'Roy you fucking piece of fucked up fucking shit, you fucked up so bad that I'm fucking surprised that we're no fucking dead.'

'I'm sorry.' Roy said, standing. 'Could you use a derivative of 'fuck' again? I think that sentence was a bit light on them-'

His sentence was cut short by a punch I threw at him.

My fist connected with his nose, it broke with a snap that wasn't nearly sickening enough. He fell backwards, a stunned and pained look on runty fucking his face. The little shit began to roll around and whimper, but I wasn't nearly through with him.

I knelt down on top of him, pinning him to the ground and began to pound his face like a piñata. I wasn't holding back, every blow was intended to wreck him as much as possible, hopefully he'd become so bruised he'd be fucking unrecognisable. One punch for every fucking bullet that got shot at us.

'Mello!' Skyre yelled, trying to pull me off. 'Ease up.'

'You fucking ease up.' I replied, elbowing him in the nose, another crack, I probably broke that too.

Skyre recoiled, groaning in pain, blood already pouring down his face. I gave Roy one final punch and then stood up, decided a punch wasn't enough, and spat on him too.

After that I retrieved my bag, and marched around the room huffily stuffing my clothes into it whilst the other two moaned like fucking bitches about their wounds. I stopped at the fridge, opened it, and stuffed every piece of chocolate I could find into my bag, flinging it in with my clothes. Once that was done I zipped it up, picked up my bag from the job, and made for the door.

'Shit Mello, where the fuck are you going?' Skyre asked, his voice all weird from the nose break.

'Away from you shits.'

'But what happened to us, to the "Three Musketeers"?'

'One of two fucking things.' I said, waving two digits in their faces. 'One, Roy here is a fucking incompetent dunce. Two, one of you ratted to the cops. Either way the dream of the Three Musketeers are dead and I won't stay here to die with it.'

They gave me a stunned expression, perhaps because of what I'd just said, or maybe because they were still reeling from the punches.

'You can't be serious.' Skyre said. 'I'm not a rat!'

'And I didn't fuck up!' Roy added.

'Well one of you are lying.' I spat. 'And I'm not sticking around to find out who is.'

And with that I pushed through the door and walked out, hoping never to see them again.

…

I woke up to an unfamiliar ceiling, with lights that were turned up too bright.

I groaned, feeling an instant headache come on. I went to rub my temple only to discover that there was a large bandage around my head like a crown.

Where the hell did I get that from? Where even was I? I'd been chasing that Ariadne person and then I rammed her car, then she flipped and rolled-

Shit.

What if she's dead? That is well within the realm of possibility, she can't be dead, I still need her to tell me about Raye. And also Nate, that weird white haired boy, she'd said he was in danger and that he need my help, how was I supposed to help him?

I don't understand.

'So you're finally awake.' Came a familiar voice.

Eric. He was sitting there in a chair, a strange mound of ruggedness in this white sterile world that I could only assume was a hospital. He looked tired, unshaven, as he'd been sitting there for a while.

'Eric?' I asked.

'So you don't have brain damage, the Doctors were worried about that.'

'Where am I? What happened.'

'Well you're in a hospital because you crashed your car.'

'Where's Ariadne?'

'The woman? She's incarcerated, awaiting transferal to a prison I believe but-'

I didn't wait for him to finish.

I leapt out of bed as quickly as I could.

They couldn't transfer her, I need her to help me, tell me about Raye, save that Nate kid if that's what needs to happen. But if she got moved away then I wouldn't be able to do anything.

But the moment I stood my legs gave way and I sprawled across the ground ungracefully, hitting my head on the floor, adding a whole new jabbing pain on top of the buzzing one. Eric came from behind me, helped me up and escorted me to the bed.

'No no, I need to talk to Ariadne.'

'You can leave in a few hours, the Doctors just need to watch you for a bit.'

'But theres a kid whose in danger, and Raye, and-'

'Yeah yeah, ok Jean Grey, you can do all that once you've been let out.'

'But-'

'No buts.' He said, setting me back on the uncomfortable hospital bed. 'Now stop rambling otherwise they might think you're insane and keep you here.'

I sighed huffily, I didn't need this, I needed to get back to HQ and talk to Ariadne.

'I'm going back to the office.' Eric said. 'You stay here until they let you out, get some sleep, work on your 'mind powers', whatever, just call me when they let you out.'

I groaned and flopped back onto the bed, this was so infuriating. By keeping me here they were putting other people at danger, I needed to get out, go talk to Ariadne.

 _'Near.'_

…

I'd been watching her for a good thirty seconds now.

These connections just seemed to drop in and drop out like a poor phone signal, or at least that's how I thought phones worked, but with how long it's been since I'd actually seen the outside world I really couldn't be sure. Either way watching her, and listening to her talk to someone is more interesting than staring at the white walls of this new room. I

n all honesty I think every hospital, Asylum, institution, and nursing home are painted in the exact same boring white, as a way to torture their imprisoned patients. Regardless, after watching her for a while I decided to try talking to her as well.

'Near.' I said. I'd wanted to say 'hello', but as usual my tongue failed to cooperate, not that I believed it ever would again.

The woman, Naomi sat bolt upright and turned to face me, her eyes wide as saucers.

 _'You, you're ok.'_

I nodded quickly, I could feel the concern she was feeling, it was urgent, powerfully so. I knew that she could barely contain it, that it was filling her with enough energy to run a marathon, and strangely, I was filling with that same energy. But even if I'd wanted to run somewhere I couldn't, I was locked in here.

'Near.'

 _'I was told you're in danger, are you?'._

There was a strange feeling here, like an executioner was raising an axe, ready to bring it down. Of course the executioner was a Doctor, Doctor Kida I think he was called. And Doctor Kida's axe was actually an operation, a brain operation.

When I'd gotten here he'd made me undergo all kinds of scans, I'd sat for hours in MRI machines, getting images of my brain created. Then he'd shown them to me and explained it was 'worse than they feared' as he pointed to a large blob in my frontal lobe. He'd said 'frontal lobe' so slowly, as if I couldn't understand, even though I was almost certain I was smarter than him.

In fact I think he might have an inferiority complex, some brothers who are smarter than him, it would explain why he talked down to me and bossed around his employees. Either way he proceeded to explain the operation, using a lot of terms that I had never heard of before meaning that they were most likely fake, and then sent me here.

I nodded again, confirming that I was indeed in danger, everything about this place and the procedure screamed menace. I don't know what the result of this operation would be but I knew it was nothing good.

'Near.'

 _'Why do you keep saying that?'_

'Near?'

 _'Yes, do you not know how to say anything else.'_

I looked around, they'd brought some of my toys here, including my note pad and pen. I found it between the transformer and the remote control car, picked it up, and wrote down 'Its a condition, I can't speak but I can understand perfectly.' This lady only spoke English, luckily I'd taught myself to speak and write in English.

I showed it to her, she took the information in and nodded.

 _'Ok, I'm going to help you.'_

'How?' I wrote.

 _'I don't know, I haven't gotten that far. Tell me where you are, people who are keeping you there, what are they going to do to you-'_

'Hello?'

I jumped at this sudden interruption.

There was a girl behind me, with mousy brown hair that extended to her shoulders, she didn't look any older than me.

I looked back but Naomi was gone, apparently these connections are tenuous at best, it only takes a small laps in concentration to lose it completely.

I looked around, I'd noticed the second bed when I'd come in but I hadn't seen her, apparently she'd been sleeping there, but it was quite unlike me to not notice. Then again this is all pretty stressful, hardly conducive to accurate observation.

'I'm Linda.' The girl said offering her hand.

'Near.' I said involuntarily. I did not reciprocate with my hand, but instead beginning to twirl my hair.

'So you're here the operation too?'

I nodded.

'Is it because you're, you know, like me?'

…

Sitting here, outside of Charlie's office, I find myself getting a strong sense of Deja vu.

The obvious thought is that this whole situation is strikingly similar to the 'Carrie/Hugh' mess from a week ago, that had gotten more out of control than a truck going downhill with no brakes. It seemed obvious, and that's why it couldn't be it.

No, sitting out here, with my subordinates giving my attempts at subtle glances as they pass, I felt drawn to a far more distant memory.

School.

This was like being sent to the principals office by your teacher. That didn't happen to me often, but the few times it did occur it was because I was arguing with my teacher, normally Mrs Cooper, an old bat with horn-rimmed glasses, who'd been teaching the eighth grade for so long that two generations of students didn't know her having ever taught another position.

But those few times I'd known I was right, and rather than face that fact, she would send me to the principal. It's typical adult behaviour for children, I read that somewhere, rather than admit they're wrong they'll attack the tone of voice the child is using, or shift the argument altogether.

Yes, sitting out here was certainly like waiting for the principal. The workers were like the students, this bench was equally uncomfortable, and the ECN logo across the hall is in the exact place the old school moto used to be, "learn into strength" or something equally nonsensical.

But there's one big difference between then and now.

Then I'd always been certain I was right, facts don't lie, they never do.

But this time, I'm certain that I'm not.

In those few seconds, where I held all the power I'd let it go to my head. I just wanted to prove Emily the fool, get back at her for cheating on me. But that's hypocrisy in the highest form from me. That's the problem with emotion, they lack that certainty of facts.

 _'Hello.'_

I nearly jumped out of my seat. Sitting there next to me was a pretty young Japanese girl, with straw blonde hair and a bright smile. She seemed far too bubbly considering that she was dressed in black gothic clothes, but maybe I was just playing into stereotypes.

'Hello.' I replied curtly.

 _'You speak Japanese.'_ She said.

'I'm speaking English.'

 _'But you also speak Japanese, don't you?'_

'Yes.' I replied slowly. 'How did you know that?'

 _'I'd like to say that it's because you look Japanese, but that's not it…'_

'Listen Misa.' I said, inwardly shaking my head. Speaking to my insanity is not the best way to control it, at least not to my knowledge, and yet here I am speaking to what can only be schizophrenia of some sort as if it's a real person. But then again that's one of the key traits of schizophrenia, at least it was in that movie, Beautiful Mind I think. 'You're just in my head, it would be best if I ignored you.'

 _'I'm real.'_ She said, smiling kindly. _'You're not the first person I've seen. How did you know my name was Misa?'_

How did I know? She's not real, so maybe I just gave that name to her in my mind, that seems reasonable. But of all the names to pick, why Misa? It didn't seem like the kind of name I'd pick. No I'd go for something like Hera or Amaterasu if I was going to go for a Japanese name.

But she didn't feel imagined, I could detect her feelings, as if it were some extra sense. Wherever she was it was cold, and she was feeling conflicted.

'You feel conflicted.' I said.

 _'So do you.'_

'You know what I'm feeling?'

 _'I suppose this… connection, works both ways.'_

'Why do you feel conflicted?'

 _'I'm engaged to a man who I don't love. If a marry him I'll be lying, but if I don't I'll break his heart.'_

Well fuck. As far as reasons to feel conflicted go that's pretty damn strong.

 _'Why do you feel conflicted?'_

'Because I'm doing something hypocritical, and I know it's wrong, but every part of me wants to keep going.'

 _'Oh. An ex?'_

'How'd you know?'

 _'It's hardly a unique story. Did she cheat?'_

'Yes.'

 _'Did you?'_

'That's a bit personal wouldn't you say?'

 _'I guess, but I feel like I've known you all my life, even though I've never spoken to you before.'_

I felt like agreeing with her, I felt the same way. We couldn't have been speaking for all that long but already I felt like I understood her thoughts, feelings, hopes, fears, and dreams better than I even understood my own. I

t wasn't like I could read her mind, they were more like concepts, the essence of an aspiration rather than a tangible idea. It was almost like I could see everything in her mind, but there was a mist, preventing me from making out the details.

'Yes.' I said, admitting the truth to the first person ever. 'I cheated on her too.'

 _'With a friend?'_

'Not quite.' I said. 'But equally bad.'

 _'With a man?'_ She asked with a cheeky grin.

What? How the hell did she know that? I've never told anyone, not even Charlie, and he's my only friend, by definition and technicality alone.

This whole 'connection' thing, assuming it wasn't actually insanity, which I was yet to make up my mind about, was getting awfully invasive. I liked my privacy, but simultaneously, it was nice to have someone at least act like they cared, that they were interested.

That's the thing about being a News Anchor, your audience is so selfish. They expect such high standards from you, and the moment you screw up a little punish you harder than they punish a government for pulling apart the economy.

'How did you know I was…' I said, not wanting to say the word 'gay' out loud. I wasn't sure whether this was all in my head, or whether my part of the conversation was out loud, or both parts, and I was speaking for her.

 _'Gay?'_ She asked, I really do hope that her part of the conversation is audible only for me. _'It's not hard to tell, I was able to pick it up immediately, what between your level of personal grooming and acute fashion sense.'_

'I put some product through my hair, so what?' I said defensively.

 _'No.'_ Misa said. _'A normal guy shampoo's their hair, you've also put some rejuvenation product through it, not to mention you do your eyebrows, shave meticulously, and use some kind of moisturiser on your skin.'_

I shook my head, this had to be insanity, there was no way she could figure all that out. She seemed just a little bit to ditsy for it. Very kind certainly, but ditsy for certain.

'How do you know this?'

 _'I'm an actor and A list celebrity, you think I don't know what product looks like on a guy?'_

'I find this all a bit hard to-'

'Light Yagami who are you talking too?' The voice of Charlie Skinner demanded from behind me.

I almost screamed I was so shocked by his sudden appearance, but I didn't, thank god, or that would have been the last but of respect he had for he thrown out.

Instead I span around quickly. He was standing with his office door open, looking very tired, not physically, just emotionally. I realised I was probably responsible for that and so restrained the comment I was about to make. Emily was standing behind him, eyebrow raised.

'Myself.' I said quickly.

I looked back at Misa, but she was gone, apparently this whole 'connection' thing wasn't very reliable.

'Well come in.' Charlie said. 'We have a lot to talk about.'

All of a sudden the feeling of seeing the principal was back, and I, like a student who knew they about to get shouted at, slinked in after him.

…

The drive here had been uneventful enough. I'd lived in Seoul long enough to know the roads to take to avoid the majority of the peak hour traffic, so it didn't take long before the modern sky rises were fading into the distance and the shabbier end of town came into view. Seoul, unlike most other asian cultures, did not evolve with the times.

Instead, because of the Korean War, we took in large swathes of other culture whilst essentially eliminating our own. Seoul was the paragon of this, a metropolis as tall as New York, modern as Tokyo, central as Hong Kong, and as innovative in design as Shanghai. Yet somehow it managed to capture none of their originality. Instead it stood as a hollow echo of them all, original only in no ways that count.

But Seoul, like any good city, had it's secrets, well hidden to everyone but to people who had lived there their entire life.

Where I was now being a good example, an underground fighting ring.

This place wasn't technically legal, but so many people came here every week that the authorities had long since given up trying to manage it, and left us alone on the condition that the fighters didn't kill each other, and there were no riots.

I looked around the room. It was a large space, with the square ring in the centre and rows of seats around it and a large screen looming over it all. Everything was bathed in an artificial blue glow, that kind of blue that is somewhere between electric and royal. The crowd was already roaring, this was one of the most anticipated matches of the tournament.

In the blue corner was me, 'The Dragonfly', a name I'd warranted because of my fast darting attacks.

In the red corner was my opponent, 'The Rock' a massive idiot who made it to the finals most years because his brute strength managed to compensate for his complete lack of brains and ability to strategise.

This is where I feel most at home, not in my office, or at the board meetings, managing the dark side of my fathers cooperate empire, or keeping my idiot brother out of trouble, or even in my own home, but here, in the ring.

Fighting.

'Fighters, enter the ring.' Called the umpire.

I followed his instructions and climbed up without aid into the ring, the rock doing the same. There was another massive roar from the crowd, you could always gauge just how many hundreds of thousands of dollars rested on the outcome of a game by the amount of noise the crowd made.

Tonight the bets might even be pushing into the millions.

The Rock was in first, a loud cheer from his fans.

I was in a moment later, a louder cheer, clearly a lot of people had decided to risk a bet on me even though the rock was better odds.

Time to make their days.

'We're playing one round, winner takes all.' The umpire said. 'The only ways to win are tap out or knock out. Understood?'

The Rock and I nodded.

He wore a cocky smile which I couldn't wait to punch off. I'd have to stay fast, using quick and solid attacks, if he got more than a half a dozen hits I'd be done. Luckily this was ring fighting, and anything goes here, as long as you're in the ring and don't kill your opponent.

'Ok.' The umpire said. 'Fight.'

The rock swung immediately, a right handed roundhouse. I ducked quickly, dropping onto my hands, which I then used to push into a spinning kick into the Rocks side.

This caught him off guard, winded him slightly. The surprise made him slow, and I used that weakness to bounce back to my feet, land three quick blows to his body and then dart away before he could retaliate.

There was a huge cheer from the crowd, everyone loves an underdog, and I just showed that this one had teeth. The rock glared at me, he'd been expecting an easy win which I wasn't going to give.

'If you want it, come and get it.' I called.

…

Big Sal unmounted his bike like a slug, slowly dragging his massive body over the machine.

A few other bikers followed suit, but most remained seated. Four were armed by my counting, three sawn of shotguns and a semi-automatic weapon.

What did we have? I was unarmed, I knew Wedy had her twin pistols, and Aiber might have a gun in the car, but that would be too far away.

I assessed Mac and Cheese, their clothes lacked any bulges that a weapon might create, and the fear on their faces said that Big Sal held all the cards.

'Trying to switch supplier, eh?' Big Sal asked, swaggering over like a self-proclaimed king.

'N-no…' Mac said.

'Then what exactly is going on here?' Big Sal asked, bring his ugly faces within inches of Mac's.

'I-I…'

Big Sal landed a heavy blow on Mac, dropping him instantly. Cheese screamed, Big Sal slapped her and then spat on her fallen frame. The bikers laughed. Big Sal loomed over the two of them, sneering as they writhed around in the dirt.

'We're your supplier, don't you forget.'

'Y-yes.' Mac said.

'If this happens again I will do a lot more than slapping you the fuck around. Dig?'

'Yes.' Mac said again.

'Yes Big Sal.' He corrected.

'Yes Big Sal.' Mac hastily amended.

Big Sal nodded and then turned to Aiber, Wedy, and I. I doubted that he'd be giving us a slap or two and then sending us on our way. Out here in the Sonoran Desert the only way to keep your business on top was to eradicate the others.

'And you three, think you can steal customers?'

'Oh we know we can.' I said.

'L…' Aiber, whispered fearfully.

'Very arrogant for a bunch of newcomers.' Big Sal said

He was inches away now, I could make out the exact piss shade of his teeth, feel the heat of his breath, and smell the garlic based meal he had for lunch. The other bikers all seemed perfectly comfortable, no doubt they'd been party to this kind of operation before.

'Arrogance is warranted when your product is of a better quality than any competition.' I said.

Big Sal punched me, hard, dropping me in much the same manner as Mac. I could taste the blood in my mouth, all warm and metallic.

Wedy drew her guns, pointed one and Big Sal and as one the still-mounted bikers all drew their respective weapons in return.

'I wouldn't do that darling.' He said

The daze from the punch began to wear off.

As it did I saw her, a woman, dressed in a singlet and boxing pants, tape wrapped around her hands. I didn't know where she had come from, who what she was doing here, but I knew that she was in a fight of her own, I could sense it. I also knew that her name was Kiyomi. She was bouncing up and down on the spot, her eyes darting around, searching for an opening like any good fighter. Then she saw me, she did a double take, I was as real to her as she was me.

'Help me.' I whispered to her.

…

 _'Help me.'_

Who was he? That strange man, with wild raven hair, dressed in jeans and a shirt, face covered in dust and blood.

I felt connected to him, he was danger, something had gone amiss in his world, he was in danger of losing everything. I had to help him, I knew I could, I just didn't know how.

A savage cry brought me to my senses, I hadn't even notice myself get distracted. I dived to the side just as the Rock charged me, dodging him like a matador dodges a bull. Thank god the Rock is an idiot, if he'd had any sense he would have stayed quiet, and I would have been hit by his attack and taken down with a single blow.

Instead I hit the ground, and in that moment I was flung somewhere else.

It was a desert I think, a hot son beating down on a dry dusty earth. I could make out everything, that weird man, Lawlite, was on the ground just like I was back in the ring. Looming above him was a large fat man, just like the Rock with me. There were others too, gangsters of some kind, about a dozen by my counting, some armed, most not.

I saw that world only for a second, the next I was back in the ring.

The Rock was right above me, he jumped and came down quickly, elbow first. I rolled quickly, letting him hit the ground and leapt to my feet. I then jumped into a spinning kick, connecting with the Rocks back as he tried to stand. As I hit the Rock I also felt myself hit something else, something far flabbier.

I was back in the Desert, just for a second. I was seeing through the eyes of L, he'd just rolled, stood, and kicked as I had, winding the fat man with the same spinning kick that I had just done.

We're connected. I see it now. Whatever I do he does, I'm in control, this is how I help him. For once I don't have to be the person who ruins lives, I can save someone, I can save them!

The Rock had stood up, far quicker than I thought such a big guy could manage. He went for me, trying to land a hit on me with a straight punch, I knew that the fat man was doing the same thing. What would teacher say to do now?

"Flow like water".

I stepped to the side, missing the punch by inches. While his arm was outstretched I grabbed it, held it tight, and span around for another kick to the gut. The Rock took the hit but the fat man went down. I jumped backwards, I needed to plan this out.

Another flash, the other gangsters were moving to surround Lawlite and his friends. The lady with blonde hair fired her guns, taking down two of the armed gangsters, scaring the other two who rode off without a backward glance. But there was still the issue of the other seven, three from the front, two from each side.

The Rock came back at me, swinging wildly, his anger was getting the better of him, his attacks were full of rage but misjudged and sloppy. I stepped around them easily and landed six punches squarely to his face, and at the same time, to the face of an oncoming gangster.

I leapt into another dragon kick, dropping the Rock to the ground again, and taking down the dazed gangster.

The Rock was back again, swiping at me from where he knelt. I leapt over the swing towards him, landing on his shoulder, it was so big that both my feet could fit easily. I then pushed off him, leaping away backwards, sending him sprawling to the ground while I landed on my feet.

In wherever Lawlite was I saw the same blow connect, but with a gangsters gut. The gangster fell backwards to the ground in much the same manner as the rock.

Perfect.

I ran forwards, both in the ring and with Lawlite's body, and dropped elbow first onto our foes faces, much as the Rock had tried to do to me.

I stood and bounced away again, the Rock was on the ropes, the crowd in an ecstasy of violence enticed excitement.

In Lawlite's world I knew that the two gangsters from both sides had been dealt with, the woman with guns dropping two, and the man taking down the other two by hand. That just left one, he looked positively frightened, he dropped to his knees, begging.

The Rock was in front of me, also on his knees, struggling to stand.

Time to kill two birds with one stone.

I ran forward, and with one final blow, brought my foot across in a spinning kick, knocking out the Rock and the last gangster at the same time.

The Crowd was unbelievable. Some standing and cheering, others booing. There were arguments already, a lot of people had just lost a lot of money because of me. The umpire came up to me, raised my hand.

'We have a winner!'

More noise, all out pandemonium.

I couldn't tell if they were cheering for me, shouting at me, or shouting at each other. I just let the noise wash over me, and instead focused on the figure in front of me. It was Lawlite, he just stood there, hair wild, his knuckles bleeding, a quiet but pleased smile on his face.

 _'Thank you.'_

* * *

 _A/N:_ _Well, things are certainly happening. All the characters know about the connection now, we know Light's dirty secret, Kiyomi's ninja skills, L got his kneck saved, Near is still in danger, and Matt and Mello are both hunted by the police! And of course theres the sinister 'Carnivore'... I have to say keeping track of all these characters is quite a challenge, I can only imagine what it's like for you, the readers! But either way, despite the effort I'm having a lot of fun with this story, and have many an idea for it. Anyhow, please leave a review with you thoughts, and feedback or critique is welcome! And stay tuned!_


	5. Strangers Like Me

_A/N: Thank you to everyone who is reading and reviewing! This is hardly the easiest story to write but you guys and your nice reviews always give me motivation to keep going! So enjoy! (also there were some questions about the ships in this fic, all questions will be answered in the A/N at the end of the chapter)_

 _Disclaimer: I own nothing from Death Note_

* * *

My life had become a countdown.

The Doctors told me that my operation was in a week, every second bringing me a little bit closer to the unavoidable.

Naomi said that she would save me, but I doubted her ability to do so, she was on the other side of the world, she didn't even know what city I was in.

St Petersburg… I think that's where I am.

Sometimes I'd see someone else, hear some stray words, be struck with an alien thought, or, much to my terror, and emotion. There was blonde asian girl, a strange man with wild black hair, a boy with red hair, and of course Naomi. The connection was becoming stronger, the flashes into their lives more frequent, sometimes they noticed me, but without the power to speak, often they would not.

Unlike my old room which had a small slit for a window in the corner, three great bars across it though no creature larger than a rabbit could fit through, this one had a great window on wall, out of which I could see the world beyond. During my what must have been years in the asylum I'd always wished for a bigger window, perhaps insane people didn't care for views but I was sane and I did very much.

But now that I'd gotten the exact thing I'd wanted I wished it gone because I could track the passage of time perfectly through it, unlike the one back at the asylum. I could watch the days drift by, the sun rising and falling, inching closer to inevitable. Besides, the view was just bleak Russian skies with the intermissions of snowfall.

I love the snow.

It seemed so pure and clean, delicate and calm. There was no rational reason for me to like the snow. When I was younger, before the car crash, I'd have to march around in the stuff and shovel it. With my lean body I'd never been made to move anything, so the shovelling was about the worst thing imaginable. How simple the world was. Once my biggest concern had been having to help my Da shovel snow, now it was undergoing a mysterious operation.

The only good thing that came out of all this was that I now had someone to share my room with.

Linda was scheduled for her operation the same day as me, and we seemed to bond over that. I liked Linda, she was short like me, with a round face that was framed by short cropped brown hair.

I'm not prone to 'liking' people, but there was something about her. She was bubbly without being overpowering, just as capable of being silent as she was of being exuberant. Often we would sit in silence, I'd play with my toys, stacking a city of dominoes or amassing an army of toy soldiers, and Linda would find herself a corner and begin to draw.

I was quite impressed with her ability to draw. They were all pencil drawings. Meticulously detailed grey images, perfect in every way.

One time she even drew me, she didn't ask, she just did it, capturing an image of me whilst I played with my toys. The picture was perfect, portraying the exact way I crouched with one leg pulled against my chest and a hand twirling my hair. There was something about the picture, it held a kind of mood. Melancholy perhaps? I'm not entirely certain, my understanding of emotions is beyond rudimentary.

Either way it was a very nice picture.

Sometimes we would talk, well write, but for me it was talking. That was another thing I liked about her, I had to write down everything I wanted to communicate because I could no longer form words, and even though she could speak perfectly well she chose to write as well. It made me feel equal to her, maybe that was her goal, I probably wouldn't know.

One might think that we'd have talked about the operation, seeing as that was our inevitable fate, but we didn't. Instead we spoke of things that I hadn't talked about in a long time: family, the weather, my favourite tv show (my knowledge was poor, seeing as at the asylum the only time I got to watch tv was in the common room, and the nurses wouldn't let me change the channel, so I was stuck watching repeats of reality tv).

We spoke about books, school, the teachers we'd had that we'd hated, and dreams. That was something I'd forgotten about. It was nice to speak about dreams, when you're alone in an asylum you forget that there is still a world out there, and that there are places to see, people to meet, a life to live.

But as the days crawled by our conversations grew less frequent. The black cloud that was the operation crept over the horizon, slowly shielding the sun.

I wanted to believe Naomi, that someone could help, but such beliefs I'd long since learnt are futile and end up hurting you.

Five days had gone by, the operation was in two, and despite all our talks about the future, it seemed very hard for Linda or I to believe we had one.

…

I walked into the bar with great reluctance. It was an old dive bar, complete with a long oak bar, all day drunks, and soft piss coloured lighting.

There were all sorts in here, even though it was only eleven in the morning.

There was the old man sitting at the bar who looked like he hadn't left for twenty years, drooping slightly over his overly large drink.

Two men in one corner, no older than thirty, probably avoiding their wives.

A recently-laid-off truck driver whose eyes followed my ass around the room.

There were countless others, like the unhappy looking barman or the fat woman growing slight facial hair.

All these factors accumulated to my reasoning for reluctance, it's the kind of place that drives you away before you even enter.

But I wasn't interested in these characters, or getting a drink, although with recent events one might not be out of the question. No, I was looking for someone, someone very specific. And if I knew him at all, which I was certain I did much to my displeasure, then he would be holed up in the farthest and dingiest corner of the whole room.

And sure enough there he was.

I strode over quickly and sat down opposite the man. He was largish around the waist, but still muscular. Some of his looks had survived his over extended stay here but they were a shadow of the heroic features he'd once possessed.

'Dad.' I said curtly.

'Naomi.' He slurred.

How many years had it been since I'd been sitting in this exact chair telling him that I intended to marry Raye with or without his blessing. Was it four? Five? I'd only visited twice since that time, once to tell him I was pregnant, the other to tell him I'd miscarried.

He was too drunk either time to really be moved.

'So, what brings you to see your father?' He asked.

'Business only, I assure you.' I replied, keeping my expression and tone as cool as I could manage.

'So daughterly love is too much to ask now days?'

'I need a favour dad.'

'I'm doing well thank you for asking.'

I definitely didn't care one way or the other about his well being. He could die right here for all I cared, I doubt anyone would notice.

'I need you to get me something.' I said, powering on. 'Something above my clearance.'

'Oh, little Naomi going against the book.' Damn him, I don't need his patronising tone. 'What for?'

'I want to see a restricted level prisoner.' I said.

'What level?'

'5.'

'No can do.'

'It's important.'

'My influence doesn't stretch that far.' he shrugged.

If only he knew that a child's life depended on this. I needed to see Ariadne so she could tell me how to save Near, so she could tell me why Raye left me, and our baby. Without a way of talking to Ariadne before she got shipped off to maximum security I could lose both these things. I had to know why Raye left, and I had to save Near.

'A child's life depends on this.' I explained, trying to stay cool.

'That doesn't change the facts.' My father replied. 'I can't help you here. You'll have to find another way to fulfil that little hero complex of yours.'

'Well thanks for the help.' I snapped.

I stood and made to leave, I didn't want to spend one more second here than I had to. Besides I had better things to do, like save a life, no hero complexes involved, it's just the right damn thing to do, or had he forgotten.

'Hey, come on, stay and have a drink.' He called.

I turned, reached into my handbag, pulled out my wallet, found a twenty dollar note and thew it in his general direction.

'Here, have it on me.' I spat. 'I've got a prisoner to see.'

I span around again and made for the exit, not looking back once.

'What're you going to do, pick the lock?' He called.

Pick the lock? Jesus he's a piece of shit.

Picking the lock is about the only thing I could say my father gave me, and even then his involvement was enablement at best. I spent my entire childhood getting into trouble, just to spite my law keeping father. I'd become such a pest that he wound up keeping handcuffed to his desk at the office just so I couldn't get into trouble.

So what did I do? I taught myself to pick locks.

I guess it's some kind of sick joke that of all things I wound up doing, it was following in my fathers own footsteps and becoming an FBI agent.

I left the bar, Eric was waiting outside on a bench.

'How'd it go Jean Grey?' He asked.

'About as badly as I expected.' I said.

…

Every person has a place where they are in their proverbial element, King of their domain, a master to none.

For me, Light Yagami, that is here. Sitting at this strange glass desk, camera's one two, and three around me, the voice of a competent EP counting down until the 'Eight O'Clock ECN news broadcast begins' in my ear.

Maybe it is a bit to hot.

Maybe I'll never quite get used to the make up they put on me so I don't look completely horrific on camera.

These things didn't matter, don't matter, and never will, for want of a different adjective, matter.

Because there was no one who could take this away from me.

'Oh Light.'

Actually there's one person who can take that away, and they're currently talking to me via the earpiece.

'Emily, don't talk to me unless you absolutely have to.'

'I thought we should take this moment to get something straight.' She said, ignoring me, not to my surprise but certainly my chagrin.

'I'm on TV in ninety seconds I don't think this is the right time to get a couple of things straight.'

'Oh thats a real pity because it's the best time to get a couple of things straight.'

'Seeing as my position is higher than yours this hardly seems fair.' I said, the speed of my words accelerating.

'Welcome to the real world buster.' Emily replied, her pace increasing to match my own. 'Life's not fair.'

Since the first day Emily and I met we'd always possessed a talent for conversations and arguments that were spoken at ridiculous syllable-minute ratio. I

t was a Sunday I think when we met, a day hotter than it currently is under these lights, which is rare for New York. Charlie had introduced me to her. We'd argued about the current role of the US military and it's sustainable viability or something equally ridiculous. I decided I disliked her the moment she started speaking, so how we wound up lip-locked an hour later in the nearest bathroom is beyond me.

But ever since that day we continued to argue like we did that first time. We'd inevitably got strange looks from onlookers, I don't think anyone understood how we processed the information like we did, but it didn't matter.

Even now, years later, some things hadn't changed. And our ability to hold a fast paced discourse was one of them.

'Can everyone hear me in there?' I asked, referring to the support crew who ran every technical aspect of the show.

'Now they can.' Emily said.

'Take me off mic.'

'Look, I did a terrible thing.' Emily began. 'And I don't expect you to forgive me, but just understand that I won't forgive you either.'

Oh great, here we go, emotions. Could we just not? I'd rather we had this conversation after we'd successfully run the show. Besides after the ear burning Charlie gave me yesterday I don't think it was readily prepared for another excruciating monologue.

Although this might actually be worse, as Charlie's was at least justified.

'Take me off.' I requested again.

'But the things you have to know.' Emily said, pushing on. 'Is that between eight and nine o'clock you are completely mine. For an hour, five times a week, I own you. But in this case it is for your own good and for the good of all. Say "I understand" so I can the guys in here a sound level.'

Maybe she had a right to make such claims. But I decide how I want to run the broadcast, she facilitates it, not the other way around. She seems to forget that we need to have a relationship of trust and right now I don't trust her at all.

If she wanted to have my trust she'd have to earn it, there was no way she'd get it through extortion.

'I don't see it working that way.' I said.

'You don't?'

'No.'

'Ok.'

Ok? She only ever gave me an "ok" when she had something planned that was both irresponsible and stupid. Still I wasn't going to give her the pleasure of seeing me concerned, because that would just give her power.

'Hey Light.' Emily said. 'Check out your preview screen.'

I glanced up at it quickly. A large image of me occupied one third of the screen, and bold golden writing the other two.

Nothing unusual, it's what our audiences see before the broadcast begins, normally accompanied by a large blast of orchestral music that someone decided to call an 'intro theme.'

Wait.

I looked back up at it again, there was something most defiantly wrong. Instead of "News Night with Light Yagami" it read "Daddy Issues with Light Yagami".

How dare she.

I told her those things in strict confidence when we were dating, no wonder I cheated on her.

'Get it off there.' I yelled.

'Say you understand.'

'Someones going to spill coffee on a button and the broadcast that thing.'

'I only have an 'interim contract' so I don't have a lot to lose.' Emily replied, sound very blasé about it all.

'I'm just glad that no one has invented a way to digitally save images and then upload them onto a website where anyone can view them for free.' I said sarcastically.

Emily matched my sarcasm with sarcasm of her own. 'Has anyone invented a way to digitally save images and uplo-'

'Youtube! Youtube!' I bellowed, losing all patience with her.

'Well now you're just a crazy guy shouting Youtube.'

'Ah God damn.'

'Just say you understand.'

'I understand.'

'Good.'

I took a very long breath.

She won this round, but there was no way I was going to let her win the match. Screw whatever that Misa girl said, this is god damn war.

I released the breath in an extended sigh. This was going to be an extremely long night.

…

I still couldn't quite piece together what had happened yesterday. I know there had been a Korean woman, that she had helped me, possessed me in a sense. My body had been hers to use, I know, via the enamoured retellings by Aiber and Wedy, that she had done some kind of martial arts and taken out a large amount of the Bikers. I'd woken up to find Big Sal and his crew running for the literal hills.

This turn of events, whilst detrimental to my hands, both of which were going a curious shade of blue with the occasional splash of purple and red, was excellent for business.

Everyone in the area knew our meth was the best, but no one dared to oppose Big Sal. But now the word had spread that L and his crew were able to stand up to Big Sal and the Bikers. Big Sal denied this of course, but only exacerbated the rumours by putting a bounty on my head, a bounty no one seemed interested in claiming.

Aiber and Wedy had been taking calls all day, our customer base had grown so much that we were doing meth by the batch rather than per customer. It was proving difficult to keep up the quality, but I was managing, that Doctorate in Chemistry was really coming into it's own.

'Seriously L, tell us how the fuck you did that shit.' Aiber said.

We were both sitting in my caravan, Desert Shores doesn't have many houses, most people just buy out a piece of land and dump a second hand caravan on it. I'd say of the population of a little over a thousand, eighty percent live in caravans.

My caravan happened to be a total disaster zone, at least from an outside perspective, I knew where everything was. Like the cutlery, I had three of everything. Two knives were in the sink, one in that beer bottle over there, there was one fork in the fridge, one in the fly stricken remains of todays lunch, and one on the floor, I was most certain about that, Aiber had stepped on it on the way in. Oh, and the three spoons were all in the cutlery draw, I never use them.

'I cannot explain Aiber.' I said to associate. 'Something just came over me.'

'Bullshit.'

'I assure you it's the truth.'

Well the watered down truth, I can't exactly tell him I'm part of a psychic link, he would mock me indefinitely. Although what happened in the quarry explains the strange boy in white I saw and the man in the church, not to mention the random temperature shifts I've experienced.

'And in other news the Governor of Arizona has officially passed the 'Make Arizona Great' Bill. A piece of legislation requiring all Migrants to carry ID at all times. On the show tonight we have a member of the Governors staff Glenn Fisher to speak with us about the Bill. Hello Glenn.'

'Hello Light.'

Ah it's Light Yagami. A very interesting news Anchor, probably the most authentic on American TV by my reckoning. Although the last few weeks his show quality has been declining…

'Glenn, don't you think that this Bill is scapegoating Migrants?'

'Light, here in Arizona.' Glenn began, with a completely disingenuous smile. 'The government can barely pay for the costs of the poor as it is, welfare, education social security especially when-'

All of a sudden the room had become incredibly hot, Desert Shores, being a Desert, actually got quite cool at night. But it wasn't sunny heat, it was artificial. The sun leaves you feeling dried and tired, while artificial light drains your energy rather than you body fluids, and this heat was doing the later.

I looked around, I wasn't in the caravan anymore.

It was a set of some kind, all glass and cameras. In front of me sat two people at a table, talking to each other and to the camera's.

It hit me.

That was Light Yagami. I

was in the studio.

Whatever this Psychic link was, it must extend to Light as well because one minute I was crouched on my sofa, the next I was crouched on the floor of a news studio currently doing a broadcast.

'-families are one or two pay checks away from the poverty line.'

'Ask the follow up Light.'

That voice, it felt like it was in my ear, but it wasn't.

I looked up at Light.

He had an earpiece, it was tiny, like a microchip. But whatever he was hearing I could hear also. That must have been his Editor, or Producer, or some other technical team member.

'He just said Migrants cost money Light, ask the follow up.' The person said, in my- his ear.

 _'Glenn I understand that having undocumented workers in the country costs money-'_

That was Light now. He was speaking, and I could hear his words normally, but they were also in my head, like an extended echo, or a resonance. I could almost predict what he was going to say, I could understand his thoughts, his feelings.

He felt anger, frustration even.

 _'-And it's a problem we have to do something about.'_ Light continued. ' _But shouldn't it be a point of pride for Americans that these people are willing to uproot their families just to come here?'_

'It is a point of pride yes and we value our diverse population in Arizona but we just want people to legally become citizens.'

The frustration in Light was rising still, it was like pressure in a container, much more and he was going to explode.

 _'And I'm sure that's whats behind the emotion and vitriol.'_ Light said. _'American's hate it when people don't fill out the proper paperwork.'_

 _'_ Light you're antagonising him.' The mystery woman said in his ear.

I felt a surge of anger as she spoke, no, not surge, spike. Just for a moment, it was intense, almost childish in nature. But whatever it was sparked something in Light because there was something new now, determination. This path, wherever Light had thought about taking it, he was determined now to go there.

'Hey.' Glenn Fisher said. 'This is a point of not only pride but security. By legally documenting migrants we are able to ensure better work practices and prevent terrorist activity in the area.'

 _'Terrorist Activity?'_

'Light…' The woman said, but the tone of her voice said that she had already surrendered the fight.

 _'I'm sorry Glenn but Arizona has seen no terrorist activity in the last three years. This Bill is not about correct documentation or fair work practices it's about racism and bigotry.'_

'Well you're a migrant yourself-' Glenn Fisher began.

That comment was a mistake. If that woman voice had caused an anger spike, then his words had just created a rage tsunami.

 _'Yes Glenn, my being a migrant does give me a personal vested interest in the issue. However your claims about terrorism are frankly delusional. Just today there have been five terrorist attacks on US soil that we couldn't report on because there wasn't time in the program. There was a mass shooting at a Planned Parenthood Clinic in Colorado, Armed protesters attacking a mosque in Texas, a Bomb hoax in an Islamic centre in Virginia, a shooting in a Mosque in Connecticut and, a planned bombing of black churches and synagogues across the nation.'_

'None of those have any baring on-'

 _'Like hell they don't. Notice the common factor across those incidents. They were Americans attacking minorities, religious, cultural, Migrants being a central focus. And now you're honestly going to tell me that this Bill is based purely on bettering our work standard and security, when the biggest group using Welfare in Arizona are White Caucasian males and we have no had a single foreign terror threat in a six months?'_

'This is extremely out of line-' Glenn Fisher began, looking very red in the face.

 _'Whats out of line is the way you're governor is facilitating institutional racism. I asked the question about pride because no matter what side of the debate you're on the rhetoric we use to talk about these people who risk their lives to come here to have a shot at picking oranges so their kids have a shot at not being dead makes it sound like we're picking gum off the bottom of our shoes.'_

Glenn Fisher had fallen silent.

The woman in Light's ear had fallen silent.

I can imagine that across the nation people had fallen silent in their homes, in the middle of dinner or evening drinks.

Light Yagami had probably just stopped a nation.

 _'Yes, Glenn.'_ Light said after letting the words hang in the air for a few more moments. _'I have a vested interest in this, but not because I was a migrant, but because I'm a human being.'_

I stared at Light.

This was a side that I, and every other viewer, had never seen before. He looked like a hero in a painting, all angular features, full of purpose, determination, and the knowledge that he was doing the right thing. The studio lighting wasn't draining anymore, but empowering.

It filled me, or him, or both of us with energy.

He was a warrior, his words were his weapons, and this was his war. He could lead me and the countless many into battle and we would follow. He was incredible.

And then I was back in the caravan, the connection cutting out as quickly as it had emerged. Aiber was wide eyed, mouth open, and staring at the TV.

'L, did you see…'

'Yes.'

'Wow.'

'Indeed.'

I went to the fridge and got out a box of chocolates. Light Yagami had gone from just being the voice of the news to the voice of reason and humanity in a modern age. And I was connected to him. I could understand his thoughts.

I knew then that I had to get closer to Light Yagami.

…

Fuck everything

Fuck the cold.

Fuck Skyre and Roy.

Fuck the stupid fucking god damn fucking police, cause they're a bunch fucked up fucking fuckers who can go get fucked.

After storming out of the safe house I realised that I only had fifty euros in pocket and whilst yes I had a roughly a million dollars in jewellery in this duffle bag I couldn't do anything with it.

Why?

Because the police, fuck them all, were out in force swarming the city like flies over a piece of shit, looking for me, Roy, and Skyre.

Aside from the clothes on my back, the jewellery in this bag, and the money in my pocket I had nothing, and after buying some food I had even less money, not nearly enough to pay for a room somewhere until the heat died down.

Well, there was no way I was going back to Roy and Skyre, the dream of the three musketeers died. So I had to make do with finding a nice cosy spot out on the streets, away from police who hunted the city for me. Last night I'd found an excellent spot between the heating unit of two buildings, it was actually quite nice.

The problem was that it was in Berlin's fucking Red Light district and every time I would try to get some sleep another horny shit would come up to me and try to pay me to be his or her fucking whore.

Little shits.

Just because I wear tight black leather clothing in a red light district apparently I'm automatically a hooker, honestly these fucking people.

So after a night of constant near-sexual assault's I decided to relocate to somewhere less dangerous to my fucking health. Namely, the Memorial to the Murdered Jews of Europe. It's a labyrinth of massive stone stabs ranging from about half a meter to four meters high and roughly the size of a sarcophagus.

These blocks are arranged into long rows down which the wind rushes during the day, and during winter flecks of snow are carried along with it, dancing and spiralling through the blocks like a legion of lost souls. The entire thing takes up about a block of land and it's frequented by the homeless at night who use the giant blocks as wind breaks.

That made it the perfect place to hide for the time being as not only did it give me a relative shelter but I also blended with all the other homeless. After all where do you hide a book but in a fucking library, no police officer would notice me in amongst the dozens of homeless.

Now the only problem I had was the cold, because it was so fucking cold.

…

'Neo, the heatings up to fucking high.'

'You're up to fucking high.' Neo replied with slurred words.

I looked over my shoulder at her. She was sprawled over the sagging couch, an extremely large bottle of vodka in one hand and her smart phone in the other. After wondering around London in a daze for most of the day we had decided to come back here, to our poorly lit, cockroach infested flat.

I'd explained to her what I'd seen, how Piggy almost seemed possessed, like his mind wasn't there when he shot the others. We'd both theorised over who this 'Carnivore' was but come up with nothing. I'd trawled the internet, then the darknet, for anything on a person or group called 'Carnivore'.

Well, I was none the wiser about who Carnivore was, which was strange, because I pride myself on being a hacker of great acumen. When I was sixteen I'd broken into the CIA database, created a criminal named Gregory McGregonson and then got back out without them ever noticing I was there.

So the fact that I couldn't find out anything about 'Carnivore' meant that either they didn't exist and we were going crazy, which I still hadn't ruled out, or they didn't want anyone to know they exist.

'Neo, where's the heating controls?'

'I threw them out the window.'

'Neo! Why?'

'What? I was bored!' She said defensively.

I don't even know how I tolerate her.

'Can you go find them?'

'Nope.'

'Why not?'

'Because I'm getting drunk and trolling dumb people on twitter, and they're my two life passions so it'll just have to wait.'

I chuckled at that. Neo, for all her faults, was value for your money entertainment. Maybe that's why I'm friends with her, aside from looks, sass, and humour, she really doesn't have many redeeming qualities.

Back in our little home town of Kilmarnock we became friends purely because all the other kids were just not as entertaining. Our mission statement was to be an utter pain for everyone and we succeeded with ease. We were pretty much family, she was there for my darkest moments, and I for hers. And sometimes it felt like she was the only person in the world I could trust, and the only person I knew I wouldn't hurt. When we turned eighteen we decided to move to London together.

we don't really have a lot in common, she likes being a DJ, weird poetry, alcohol, and being a generally terrible human being, whereas I like computers, parties, and smoking most anything that grows.

But family does as it does, and we were family, so we stuck together. We accepted each other for all our faults and really had few boundaries, like now we were both lounging around in our underwear and we just didn't care, it didn't matter.

'I'm going to the fridge, want anything?' I asked.

'I want you to rethink your life.'

'I'll take that as a no.'

I stood and walked from out small living room to our even smaller kitchen. Opened the fridge and began to search around for something to eat. Most of it was out of date, mouldy, or both, but I was fairly sure there was some left over pizza.

 _'Ever considered some fucking clothes?'_ An aggressive voice asked.

I jumped around quickly, the voice was deep and masculine, not Neo.

I thought I'd calmed down a little since the shooting but apparently I was still pretty on edge.

There was a person, leaning against the bench, with straw blonde hair. For a moment I thought it was Misa, I wouldn't have minded it being her either. But I quickly realised it wasn't. It was a man, dressed in some of the tightest leather I've ever seen, with long blonde bangs. I think that's what threw me off, his hair was easily passable for a girls.

'Jesus, who are you.'

 _'What's it to you?'_ He shot back.

'Are you like me?' I asked, my mind beginning to work slowly again. 'You know…'

 _'Half naked? No. Psychic or whatever the fuck this is, I think so.'_

'Matt who the hell are you talking to?' Neo called from the other room.

'Remember that weird vision thing?'

'Yeah.'

'It's happening again.'

'Oh, ok.'

I rolled my eyes, any other human would have rushed in here to check on me but not Neo. She was the one human being who gave so few fucks, then again, I'm not entirely sure she's a human being.

 _'What's with the goggles?'_ The blonde man asked, his accent sounded German.

'What with the prostate outfit?'

 _'It's just fucking leather, not a- fuck it, never mind.'_

A sudden chill ran down my spine, as if winter was breathing on the nape of my neck.

Was this part of the connection? It was defiantly hot here in the apartment, but was it cold where he was?

'Where are you?' I asked, sitting on the bench next to him.

 _'Berlin.'_

'Outside.'

 _'Yes.'_

'Is it cold?'

 _'Very.'_

'Wanna go inside, you're making me feel cold.'

 _'I'm currently without a fucking place to go.'_

'Oh.'

I nodded and began to munch on the pizza, supreme, my favourite. I like cold pizza, maybe even more than hot pizza.

Every now and them another wave of cold would sweep over me like a gust of wind, but mostly it was still hot. It was almost like my sense's were dropping in and out like a bad signal, occasionally I would feel what he was feeling, the cold, the wind, but mostly I didn't, not that I wanted to.

 _'It's warm here.'_ The blonde said.

'So you can feel it too?' I commented.

He nodded aggressively. Everything he did seemed to be aggressive, as if he had a constant store of anger which he infused into every action. How very German.

'Is it constant?'

 _'Mostly.'_ He said. _'If I focus on it than I can sort of numb out my other sense's.'_

So that's how it worked, it was about concentration and will. I decided to test it.

Focus.

I suddenly became very cold and for a moment was projected into a maze of grey stone. It was unbearably cold so I focused on going back to my apartment, and in a second I returned.

'My name's Matt.' I said.

 _'Mello.'_

'Mello?'

 _'Yeah, got a fucking problem with it.'_ He challenged.

'No.'

He took in a heavy breath, and calmed down, I could feel swell of anger recede again, like water rushing back into the ocean.

 _'Good.'_ He said

'You can stay here for now if you'd like.'

His mouth formed a smile, or the nearest thing I think it could manage to a smile. It was pretty horrific, kind of like an animal's snarl, but I wasn't going to tell him that. I actually kind of liked him, in a strange way.

Maybe I'm just drawn to people who aren't very functional human beings.

 _'Thanks.'_ He said.

…

My fists still ached from the fight a day later.

I say fight, but I mean fights, not only had I beaten the Rock, current belt holder, and propelled myself into the next round of the underground fighting tournament, but I had saved a life.

Me.

Kiyomi, Company Executive, life ruiner, embezzlement enabler, works-in-the-shadows, Tadaka. I had managed to do something good for someone. Not good for my family, or for me, not good in the selfish sense, good in an altruistic sense.

My entire body may be bruised and sore, but I'd never felt better before.

Unfortunately with every colossal high comes an inconceivable low, and my low had come from my return to work this morning.

Despite my victory in the ring, my circumstances hadn't changed. The FFS was still breathing down my neck, my fathers entire corporate empire was teetering on the verge of collapse and it all hinged on how I handled this situation.

It wasn't even my fault, I didn't benefit from the embezzlement, my brother did mostly, and my father facilitated him. I just covered their tracks because my father was too lazy and my brother too stupid to do it themselves.

It wasn't a matter of if the story would break but when, and when it did I would surely be roped in as a conspirator, sent to prison along with the two of them.

What would mum have said if she was still alive? The same thing she said to me back in the garden of our old house, "protect your brother and father". A nice sentiment, but not something I found any appeal in doing.

The entire day I debated whether to alter the documents, cut myself out as the middle man in this situation, it was well within my power, but somehow I never found the will. My mothers last wish hung over me, her ghost reminding me that I had promised her that I would protect them, that it was somehow my 'duty'.

And it was for that reason that I was now stalking the rooms of this disgusting 'private club' to find my brother.

Duty. Certainly not altruism.

And by god this club was disgusting.

Men who were fine and honourable by day, handling transactions and funds for major companies all seemed to convene here and drop that mask. Now they were nothing more than dogs, wagging their tails excitedly every time one of the scantily clad dancers came their way, it's no wonder my brother liked this place, it was one step away from being a glorified brothel.

I made my way slowly down the hall, peaking into every room and seeing the same scene over and over, men of all ages crowded around a table on which a woman was dancing. Meanwhile they were getting drunk off cheap alcohol and high off just about every drug imaginable, although ecstasy seemed to be by far the favourite.

I peaked into another room, scanned the faces. I almost missed my brother, huddled in one corner, drunk, high, and with a woman on his lap.

He's so pathetic.

I pushed into the room, nobody noticed me, the music was up too loud. I picked up the nearest glass I could find and smashed it on the floor.

The effect it had was pleasant, everyone jumped, one of the dancers screamed, the guard came up to me and I had to incapacitate him by braking his arm. But the best reaction was my brother, he stared angrily and then his slow mind caught up to the fact that I would only be here if it was urgent.

His eyes went wide his mouth formed an 'O' shaped and tried to form words but failed.

'Yes brother.' I said. 'You're secret is about to come out.'

I turned and left, not looking back because I knew he would be following.

…

I collapsed onto my sofa at home.

Check the time; 9:45pm.

The traffic had been merciful tonight. Normally New York was a nightmare of congestion worse than a diabetic with a clogged artery, but tonight the drive had been a breeze.

I'd finished up at 9:30 and driven home in just under fifteen minutes.

I pulled off my tie and began to unbutton my shirt, it felt like I was shedding a skin. The broadcast had gone incredibly well tonight, the first time I'd truly cooperated with Emily and everything ran smoothly.

Fuck.

I wanted it to go badly, I wanted Max back.

Emily was trying her hardest, and I was being overly hypocritical and spiteful over nothing in particular, at least over nothing that I myself had not done. And in return for her effort I was treating her like shit.

But the broadcast had gone well. That was the thing. Maybe I didn't like working with her, but was it for any professional reason? No, not a single one I could think of. Maybe she was condescending, controlling, assertive, but in the end she managed to make it work out. My reasoning was purely personal.

I pulled the shirt off. Maybe I should give her a chance…

 _'Hello.'_

'Shit!'

A man, with the wildest raven hair, was just sitting there crouched on my sofa. Of course, a natural explanation for my poor reaction to everything, including Emily, at the moment might be because of the high-stress life of suddenly being psychically connected to random strangers.

This one reminded me of another, that weird boy with white hair. They both sat in a similar fashion, that's probably it.

 _'Apologies.'_ The man said.

He had a soft voice, as if his mind was constantly diverted, stretched over a thousand thoughts, barely able to stay anchored in reality at all.

He seemed to exist more as a collective of thoughts than an actual human. I could sense them all, just like I could feel the conflict within Misa, I could sense just how many thoughts this man was having. They raced as buzzed around in his mind at a thousand miles an hour, and I, connected as such, was able to feel their echo. A kind of resonance.

'It's ok.' I said. 'Not the first time its happened.'

 _'You were very good tonight.'_ The man said.

'You watch the show?'

 _'Yes.'_ He said. _'After the decline in quality over the last week I was beginning to reconsider, but tonights program restored my faith.'_

'I see.' I said slowly.

He was strange, the large bags under his dark eyes, and creased clothing only served to perpetuate that. He didn't even wear any shoes. Although now that I looked closely I also noticed that beneath all the strangeness he was actually quite good looking, in a weird modern-hermit kind of way, if that made sense at all.

His best features, now that I looked at it more intently, were the aspects of his face. It was all angular with high cheekbones and a sharp but not long nose. His lips were pursed in thought, but by far his best feature was his eyes. They were like a deep dark pool, filled with the unknown…

Not now Light.

'So were you watching from your house or my head?' I asked.

 _'Both.'_ He replied.

'You like the show?'

 _'You, actually.'_

My heart rate increased slightly, this man, whoever he was, had just said he was interested in me? Come off it Light, he clearly meant in an academic way, this is nothing more than a school boy crush.

Actually no, scratch that, it's nothing more than pathetic.

'Me?'

 _'Yes. I find the way that you convey facts both informative and effective. Whilst your balance between idealism and realism is refreshing and honest.'_

Refreshing huh? That's me, Mr Refreshing. Always there to be a splash of water in the dehydrating stress festival that's life.

God what even was that metaphor?

'Most people just call that balance cynicism.' I said.

 _'I think of it more as pragmatism.'_ The man said.

I like this guy. He's smart, which is something depressingly hard to come by these days. But not only that he's intelligent.

A lot of people don't really seem to understand when I say that theres a difference between the two, they see them as being one and the same. However really it's more like the difference between knowledge and wisdom, one is the essence and the other the application.

This guy had both the smarts and the intelligence and was applying it with extreme precision and skill. It's certainly something I could use a lot more of in my life.

'Where do you live?' I asked, wanting to know more about this strange but brilliant man.

' _Desert Shores.'_

'Desert Shores?'

 _'It's a nothing on the road between two nowheres.'_

'How poetic.'

 _'More of a fact really.'_

'Oh.' I said dumbly.

I just couldn't quite get my footing with this guy, who was he?

Normally I hated being made to look dumb, and he had just done it without even trying, but this time… This time what?

I'd enjoyed it? Get out. No way.

Besides he was probably living in some far flung corner of the world, somewhere very hot judging by the fact that I was beginning to sweat despite the fact that my house heating was set to a certain temperature.

'So where is Desert Shores?'

 _'About two hours out from Los Angeles, in the middle of the Sonoran Desert next to the Solton Sea.'_

Oh, so not some far flung side of the world but actually in the same country as me, I could go and see him if I wanted.

'And what's life like out there?'

 _'Interesting. I cook meth.'_

He said it so casually that I almost didn't believe him, but one benefit of this psychic link is that I can tell if he was lying, and he wasn't.

It was the honest truth, he cooked meth.

A simple and plain fact about this strange man who is crouching on my sofa in my room looking at me with no shirt on.

'You cook meth?'

 _'Correct. I have several competitors. It's quite dangerous sometimes.'_

'Why?'

 _'They try to shut my operation down, usually by killing me.'_

Again with the deadpan, this guy was so straightforward that I actually didn't know what to make of him. Most every other person lies but not this guy, he just says the facts, uncaring of what I may think.

It's kind of refreshing.

'Kill you?'

 _'Yes, my associates and I were very nearly killed yesterday, but I was saved by a Korean woman.'_

'A Korean woman?'

 _'Yes, she… connected with me. Her consciousness controlled my body.'_

'That doesn't make a lot of sense.'

 _'My body kind of became a tool for her to use. Through it she attacked and defeated those threatening me.'_

'So she saved you?'

 _'But those people may return, trying even harder to kill me. So she may have saved me or signed a veritable death warrant.'_

'Sounds just like Emily.'

 _'Hm?'_ He questioned.

'Nothing.'

Clearly he was at least somewhat like me, in that our minds were connected.

But there was more than that, he thought like me.

He didn't see the world as blacks and white, but infinite greys.

He understood that there was no one who wanted to hurt you, merely people who wanted to get something for themselves and you were just in their way.

I felt drawn to him, to that connection, both literal and conceptual. What was the line from my favourite movie as a kid, Tarzan, 'Wanna know 'bout the the strangers like me'? I certainly wanted to know about this one.

'So you're a psychic like me?' I asked, starting from something we both shared.

 _'I believe the correct term is actually a sensate.'_

'If you say.'

 _'Yes I'm like you, this connection manifested about two weeks ago when I had a vision of-'_

'A man in a church, shooting himself.' I finished.

 _'Yes…'_ He said slowly.

The implications of this were dawning on us.

I'd finished that sentence without any knowledge that he was going to say that.

To my knowledge I was the only person who'd seen the man in the church, I didn't know who he was, whether he was real or not was still a matter of debate. At least up until this point.

But this person had seen him too, our link was created at that moment. How many more of us were there?

Before I got to press any of these questions we were interrupted by my phone ringing. God I need to change my ringtone from this stupid 'off-the-shelf' blaring chime bell mixed with a banshee's screaming bullshit.

I picked up the wretched thing, the screen said the call from from "Charlie Skinner". I rolled my eyes and mouth 'sorry' to the man. He seemed unphased.

'Hello.' I said politely.

'I just wanted to tell you.' Charlie said. 'That the show tonight was excellent.'

Emily must be rubbing off on him, because apparently no one knows how to actually properly start a conversation. Between her marching into my office at all hours of the day and wildly proclaiming that she was going to 'change the world' and Charlie's apparent lack of ability to return a polite 'hello' I'm beginning to wonder if we have an civility left.

'I still can't work with her Charlie.' I said, cutting straight to the point that I would have made tomorrow in his office, but hey, why not do it now.

'Boo-fucking-hoo.'

Wow Charlie, you're a paragon of sympathy and understanding. I'll just file that under things I wish I could say but can't right now because I'm talking to my boss. It' s mental folder thats a lot more full than one might suspect.

'She's indifferent to ratings, competition, cooperate concerns, and generally speaking, consequences.'

'I'm to old to be governed by fear Light.'

'I'm not.'

'Well then I'm too drunk.'

'You're always drunk Charlie, it's unprofessional, and it's more than that because it's uncivilised, but you know what else. It's also unprofessional.'

'You already said that.'

'Repetition for dramatic effect.' I said with tired sarcasm.

'Lay off, I have to listen to you all day, so I think alcohol is perfectly reasonable.'

I rolled my eyes at that. How did someone as all-day-drunk as Charlie Skinner get to be Head of the News Department? I don't know, but if he would tell me his secret that would be great.

'It doesn't change the fact that she's still-'

'What you just described isn't Emily's shortcomings, it's my job description. I'm telling her to act that way. I'm Don Quixote, you can be Sancho, she'll be Cascajo, and everyone else out there is the horse.'

'He rode a Donkey.'

'That's really not the point.'

'How do you even know about the Don Quixote speech?'

'I know everything.'

'Trust me you don't.' I said, looking at the psychic image of a man sitting next to me on the sofa.

'Ok, but I do know that a bald eagle has an average wingspan of 1.8 to 2.3 meters. I learnt that from a documentary yesterday.'

'Charlie-'

'News Anchors having an opinion isn't a new thing. Murrow had one and that was the end of McCarthy. Cronkite had one and so ended the Vietnam War.'

'I'm not those guys.'

'I'm betting everything I have that you're wrong.'

'And what do you have.'

'A guarantee that goes by the name of Emily Southwell.'

'Listen-'

'She did a terrible thing, I get it Light. But regardless you two working together is the formula for the best damn News of this generation. You know kiddo, in the old days, of about an hour ago, we did the news well, you know how? We just decided to. And we're going to keep doing it.'

Considering he was a drunk who had somehow bumbled his way into a position of authority, Charlie really did know how to inspire someone. In that moment every issue I had with Emily was washed away, or at least to an extent where I would be willing to work with her.

Because he was right, we were doing something good.

'Goodnight Light.'

'Night Charlie.'

I was met with the long droning buzz that meant Charlie had hung up. I followed suit and then turned back at the strange man next to me.

I still didn't know much about him, I knew where he lived, what he did for a job, but outside of that, nothing. He was fascinating on so many levels that it was difficult to describe. Not to mention he really did have excellent cheekbones.

I let out a long involuntary yawn.

 _'You appear to be tired, I should be leaving.'_ He said.

'Wait I don't even know your name.' I said.

He turned around and shot me a raised eyebrow, I knew the question 'why does it matter'. Part of that I knew from intuition and the other from the fact that our minds are connected, it was just very hard to tell where one ended and the other started.

Still I had to answer his question, and I couldn't just say my initial response, I mean, I barely knew him.

'Just our minds appear to be connected, so might as well find out now.' I said casually.

He gave me another look coupled with a half hearted shrug. I couldn't quite place it, but he was emanating scepticism so that's what I assume it was.

 _'L.'_ He said. _'My name is L.'_

'What kind of name is L?'

 _'Says the man whose name is Light but it's spelt moon.'_

'Wait, hold on, how the hell did you know that?'

He didn't answer, just gave me a sly smirk, I think he was enjoying my reaction. The next moment he was gone, the spot in my sofa was empty, and I was left wondering just what kind of guy I was mentally linked to.

…

Linda had been taken away for a check up before the operation tomorrow. I'd undergone the same just an hour ago, escorted our of this room and through ominous hallways.

This facility was ghostlike, all rooms with shut doors and empty halls, with only the occasional masked Doctor or Nurse rushing past. The check up had been just like the physicals at the Asylum. They do your eyes, and your blood pressure, and your heart rate. They check your height, weight, and that's about it.

Now I just waited for Linda to get back.

 _'Near…'_

That was Linda's voice, she was talking to me. A moment later I was drawn to the clinic, where I had been just an hour before. She was sitting where I had been, the blood pressure tester around her arm.

The room was otherwise empty, apparently the Doctor on hand had been called away. But the door was slightly ajar, and through it I could make out some people having a muttered conversation.

'Near?'

How was this possible? I knew Linda was like me, a psychic, or sensate as she liked to call it, but I didn't think we were connected, not like I was with Naomi and some other people I'd seen flashes of. Was it possible for an sensate to connect with another? I didn't understand. I think Linda must have understood this because she explained in a whispered voice:

 _'Any sensate can connect with another, but we each have a cell, a group of people with which we share a constant link. What we're doing now is like a phone call.'_

I nodded accepting this answer.

'Near?'

Why did you bring me here?

 _'Outside that door Doctor Kida, you know, the one who's doing the operation, and someone else are talking. I can't go over to the door because of this.'_ She indicated to her blood pressure tester. ' _So I need you to go an eavesdrop for me.'_

I didn't know why she wanted me to do this or what she thought it might accomplish but I nodded and followed her instructions, slinking off to the door.

I peaked through the open crack.

Outside there was the check up doctor, a dumpy looking man who I assumed was Dr Kida and another person, a woman with long black hair that fell over one eye. I focused on her name badge, it read Dr Anima.

Anima.

That's latin for soul I believe, which meant that it wasn't her real name. So who was she and what was she doing here?

'Preliminary tests on the boy show that he's even more powerful than we first believed.' The check up Doctor said.

The boy. Was that me?

'I've just received word from Teru that another of the boys cell has been snooping around, looking for Ariadne.' The woman, Dr Anima said. 'And the attack on the London boy has failed to create the proper results, we have to move ahead of schedule.'

The other two nodded.

'If Ariadne tells another member of the boys cell they could help him escape. He's powerful, I need to absorb that kind of soul, with it we will be able to move onto the next stage.'

Again the other two nodded.

'Move the boy up to today, how long until you can have him ready for surgery?'

'Three hours.'

'Do it.'

I gasped, covered my mouth, then remembered that Linda was the only one who could hear me.

 _'Near? Near? What is it?'_ She asked.

I turned to face her, I knew that my pale skin must have gone a sickly grey. I gave her a pleading look, but what could she do, what could anyone do?

They were moving my surgery up, I had even less time than I predicted. And what did she mean by absorb my soul?

What did that involve? What would that do to me?

They said this surgery involved something to do with the brain, did absorbing my soul involve my brain? What would it do to me? Kill me? Leave me a vegetable?

 _'Near, Near, talk to me.'_

'Near.' I said quietly.

Her face fell, she understood.

The connection disappeared and I was back in my room. I sunk to the floor, holding my sides, my stomach doing tumbles. Three hours, that's all I have now, three hours.

And then, I will almost certainly die.

* * *

 _A/N: Well times running out for Near! Will anyone be able to save him? Aside from that this chapter was more about fleshing out character relationships than anything, giving some context and background to some, and letting others just talk and be in their element. I'm particularly proud of the Light's rant, I think that turned out quite nicely. Now, I've been asked what the ships in this fic are, and to be perfectly honest, I have no idea. So if any of you guys have ships that you think are evolving or you want to see let me know, otherwise feel free to leave a review and stay tuned!_


	6. The Fate of Near

_A/N: Hello hello! 'This update was faster than usual' I hear you say, and it's true! I thought after the end of the last chapter it might be polite to get this one out a bit faster. So here it is!_

 _Disclaimer: I own nothing from Death Note._

* * *

I marched into the detention area, the most bland looking floor in the Los Angeles FBI building, it was just varying shades of grey illuminated by a draining bright light. Over at the desk, sitting with a posture that must be a chiropractors nightmare, was the 'warden', a fat middle age man with a belt that made his fat stomach bulge over his waistband like a mushroom. If my father couldn't help me see Ariadne then I would just go in and speak to her myself.

'What're you going to do Jean Grey?' Eric asked, just a pace behind me.

That was a good question, I hadn't the foggiest as to my course of action. My goal was to see Ariadne, my obstacle was three locked steel doors and an overpaid security guard, not to mention the fact that I needed a level 5 security clearance to see her when I only had level 2. Maybe I could forge a note from a superior? It always worked back at high school.

'Jean Grey, what are you going to do?' Eric asked again.

'Look I don't know.' I whispered. 'Bribe him, fake it, entice him, whatever will work.'

'Entice him? What're you going to do, offer him a steamy night at your place?'

'If that's what it takes.'

Was this really what I've come to? Would I really offer sex in exchange for a five minute talk to Ariadne? I don't even know if she's on 'our side. But whose side is that? The FBI's, the psychic's and myself, me and my memory of Raye? Did it even matter? The answer was no it didn't matter and yes I would go to such an extreme. The fact of the matter remained that a child's life depended on my ability to save him, and I couldn't do that without Ariadne telling me how. Not to mention the personal reason of knowing why Raye left me, but rule 101 of the FBI, leave person issues at the door, and until I saved Near that's just what I intended to do.

'Hi.' I said to the Warden. 'I need to see the prisoner who was brought in yesterday evening.'

'The one from the car crash?'

'The same.'

'Clearance?'

'Does that really matter?'

He gave me a dark glare, damn, how do people do this? A girl flaunts her looks right, I'm good looking, he's fat, probably desperate for an easy lay, shouldn't be too much effort.

'I can make it worth your while if you-' I began, reaching for his face so I could run my hand along it.

Before I ever made contact with his face he caught my hand. There was a very prominent gold band on his ring finger. I went a little red and pulled away quickly, mumbling 'sorry' and waddling away with my head bowed, although I think the 'sorry' came out as more of a mix between a cough and strangled gurgle.

'Nice job.' Eric said.

'Shut up, I never was never debonair when it came to rule breaking.'

'Debonair.' Eric repeated back to me like a mocking parrot. 'Oh, look at me I'm Jean Grey, I'm smart, I know words.'

'Don't be a pest.' I snapped.

He fell back into line quickly.

'Well, what're you going to do now?'

'I don't know.'

We marched over to the elevator, hit the down button. It arrived with an obnoxious 'ding', the heavy looking doors parted to reveal a mirrored, and mercifully people-free, interior. We stepped in, pressed the button for 'Ground Floor' and waited, the soft hum of the elevator descending the only intrusion into the silence.

 _'Naomi.'_

Ariadne had appeared right in front of me. Her jacket and jeans from yesterday were gone, replaced with a bright orange prison jumpsuit, apparently there wasn't any trial, she was straight off to maximum security, maybe even Guantanamo. Well, when she appeared I jumped, nearly hitting the room and yelled 'shit' quite loudly. This caused Eric to jump also, straight into the wall with a loud, painful sounding, 'thump'.

'Jesus, what is it?' He asked.

'Ariadne, she's here.'

 _'We need to talk. Quickly.'_ Ariadne said.

I didn't miss a beat. I pushed the emergency stop button, bringing the elevator to a jarring halt. Eric looked completely bewildered but didn't say anything, perhaps because he didn't know what to say, or perhaps because he'd finally learnt not to interrupt me.

 _'You don't need to be in the same room as me to talk Naomi.'_ Ariadne said. _'In fact, if you had visited me it would have only raised suspicion.'_

'Suspicion?' I said, alarmed. 'From who?'

 _'It doesn't matter now, have you saved Nate.'_

'Near.' I corrected, instinctively, his name is Nate, I knew that, but it's hard not to think go him as Near when that's all he says.

 _'It matters not.'_ Ariadne replied. _'Have you saved him?'_

'How do I do that?'

 _'When you're a Sensate you can not only connect with people in your cell but also 'inhabit' their bodies. Essentially controlling their actions.'_

I nodded, taking this in, processing the information quickly. So that's what had happened in the car, for those moments when I'd blacked out someone else, the angry german, had been in control of my actions. He saved my life. But I'd also done the same, and if I could do it before, then surely I could do it now.

'How?' I asked. 'How do I do that?'

 _'You did it before, last night in the car, did you not?'_ Ariadne asked.

How did she know that? Actually no, never mind. I imagine there are a lot of things Ariadne knows that I don't, and there was no time to waste asking her about it.

'Yes, I did, but I don't know how to do it again.'

 _'There are three ways. Through training, force, or stress. Last night when placed under stress, you're unconscious mind took over, taking action to save your life. The difference is because your mind is linked to others you can use not only your knowledge but theirs. In those moments, because the demand for their skill and instinct is so high, they inhabit your body, taking full control. Essentially, a Sensate under immense stress will seek assistance from the most equiped sensate from their cell.'_

'But how does that help me?'

She rolled her eyes. I don't blame her, I was being extremely slow, but seeing as this whole world was new to me I needed a little time to catch up.

 _'Put yourself in his shoes. Your life is about to be taken from you, in less than three hours-'_

'Three hours?' I exclaimed, alarmed to say the least.

 _'Shush. Your life is about to be taken, imagine the stress. His mind will try to connect with the best strategist in his cell, someone adaptive and tactical, able to help him escape. Ego…'_

'Me.'

She smiled, a beautiful toothy smile. Her gleaming teeth stood out against her dark skin like white chocolate against dark. It was hard to see someone so beautiful being a possible terrorist threat, but then again, beautiful people use that quality to deceive others, so maybe it was entirely possible. Either way, I had put my trust in her.

 _'See.'_ She said. _'You don't need to find him, because he will inevitably find you instead.'_

And then she was gone, before I got the chance to ask any other questions. One moment she was standing there, her reflection bouncing down the never ending tunnel created by the mirrors. The next she was gone, evaporating like a mirage.

I sighed, a long deep sigh. I could save Near, but that meant that my work was far from over.

'What just happened?' Eric asked, still completely bewildered.

'Jean Grey things.' I replied.

I hit the emergency stop button again. The elevator groaned back into life and continued its slow descent.

…

'Near.' The nurse said impatiently. 'Operations in fifteen minutes, you have to come with us now.'

She'd been trying to make me go for five minutes now, but I was 'clinically diagnosed as insane' so now was a good time to play the part, anything to postpone this one more minute, give someone, anyone, one more chance to save me. I shook my head, holding onto Linda's are with one hand, the bed railing with the other, and crouching in between the two with my leg up against my chest.

'Near…' The nurse said, her patience now thinner than a sheet of paper. 'Come on.'

'Near.' I said, I'd meant 'no', or 'go away', or 'Fuck off', one of the people I'm connected too liked to say that quite a lot.

While I, as usual, said near rather than what I'd intended, the intent still came across loud and clear in the tone. The nurse sighed a deep sigh, I felt sorry for her, having to deal with actually insane people all the time, but my sympathy did not reach as far as my self-preservation.

 _'There's help coming, don't worry.'_ A voice said in my ear.

I didn't recognise her, it was distinctly a her. There were only three women in my 'cell' as it was called, Naomi, the blonde one, Misa I think, and the Korean one with short hair, Kiyomi maybe. This voice was deep, melodic even, and defiantly not belonging to one of them. Should I trust her, should I not, she seemed to know I was in trouble, which is enough for me. I'll trust her, what do I have left to lose?

My life, not much for what it's worth, but it's worth something to me. Still I'll trust her, there's not a lot of options.

'Near.' I said, pointing a Linda.

'You want to bring your friend?' The nurse asked.

I nodded. 'Near.'

'Fine, she can sit outside during the operation, now please come along.'

I stood obligingly, and was escorted by the nurse through the facility. Every door we passed was locked, the hall was empty of patients, only Doctors and Nurses, rushing past here and there, masks on faces, never smiling or speaking. I held Linda's hand tightly, right now she was the only thing I had, the only sliver of security, of comfort, of hope. And more than that, she was my friend, my first proper friend. She'd be undergoing the same procedure tomorrow. I shivered at the thought, I'd brought her along, if I wasn't saved in time she might see the results. She would know just what happens, what they do to you, exactly how she would die. And she'd be all alone, waiting for her fate, because I'd be gone. I realised how incredibly selfish I'd been in bringing her along, but I couldn't change that now.

'Through here.' The nurse said. 'You wait outside.'

I turned to Linda, her brown eyes were wide, glistening with tears. How could she be crying? How could she find the energy to be sad for me? I couldn't find it for her, try as I might, the only person I had any time for was me. But there she was, on the verge of tears, holding my hand so tightly in her desperation not to let go that I think she might be cutting off circulation.

I have to be brave, be strong, for her.

'Near.' I said, trying to sound brave.

'No.' She sobbed. 'Don't.'

'Near.' I said, squeezing her hand.

I let go and entered the room. It occurred to that Linda, with her choppy brown hair and kind smile, might be the last friendly face I ever saw. All of a sudden I felt loneliness crushing around me, burying me. I didn't want to die, not at all, but if I had to die, if it was inescapable then I would at least want to do it with someone who I knew cared enough to cry for me. I span, hoping to catch one more glimpse of her but the door clicking shut behind me.

…

Once you get past his apparent lack of need to wear anything but the most rudimentary amount clothing but almost compulsive need to wear his goggles, the fucking atrocious mess that his apartment was, his scary roommate and apparent best friend Neo (what the fuck kind of name is Neo anyway), and the startling amount of cigarettes he could smoke in an hour, you begin to realise that Matt Jeevas is actually a pretty alright.

For the last two hours now I'd stayed mentally linked with him, experiencing the warmth of his apartment. I wasn't too sure about how this fucking mental link thing worked, but when I checked on my body back in Berlin to make sure I wasn't freezing to death I was perfectly fine, as if I really was indoors. Despite the fact that the snowfall had progressed from picturesque to a knee high mess my body temperature was good, great even. But still I broke off the connection for a few minutes to find an area that would protect me from falling snow so I wouldn't return in a few hours time to find my body buried. That place turned out to be a carpark that the homeless liked to during snow.

So, I went there, broke into a van that looked like (and smelt like) it hadn't been moved for about three years and snuggled into the back between two large boxes filled with some shit. From there I could enjoy the connection at my leisure, which I proceeded to do.

Visiting someone via the mental connection is fucking weird. Every sense was telling me I was there, I could feel every bit of shit in the carpet as I walked around, could smell the mould growing in a corner, I could touch everything, but couldn't move anything. We found this out the hard way when we tried to play video games, it's been a fucking life time since I'd played any and Matt it seemed was one of the fucking losers who owned every console and every game, he even showed me his DS collection, he has every colour ever released, no fucking reason really, he just really likes them. He actually kind of adorkable when he shows me gaming or computer things, his eyes go wide like a childs and he gets so overexcited that he loses track of what he's saying, repeats things several times over, and ends it all with an overly energetic 'so yeah!'

I think Matt gets over excited quite often because Neo didn't pay him any mind when it happened, I think the extent of her reactions were quick glances to make sure he hadn't injured himself. Neo's really fucking weird actually. She spent her entire time reading a book, in her underwear, on the couch, completely indifferent to the fact that her roommate was talking to someone thousands of miles away. The other thing was that everything she said was done so through a veneer of sarcasm and quite frankly terrifying glares that it was hard to tell whether she always joking or dead serious.

'Listen.' She said when Matt introduced her to me, indicating to where I was standing even though all she could see was empty floorspace. 'If you're going to stay around we have a couple of house rules. You can't use the front door, you have to climb up the fire escape. No personal phone conversations. If you ever speak to me in Spanish please use the formal 'Usted'. Theres a no noise policy on Mondays and after 10pm every other day. If you ever watch a sad movie you have to wear mascara so I can see if you've been crying. And no TV after breakfast.'

 _'She's kidding.'_ Matt said with a grin, apparently he was used to this.

'If you value your limbs then assume I am not.' Neo said with a severe expression.

I really didn't quite know what to think about her. I had killed a dozen people in my time, but I'd always felt a little awful afterwards, but Neo looked like it wouldn't phase her if she committed mass genocide. It was like someone had mixed the personality of an angry cat with a sleepy bear and then put it into a human body. My confusion wasn't helped by the fact that she was hot. Actually both her and Matt were hot, and I was quite happy to swing both ways too. I had wondered quickly if a psychic threesome could somehow be managed but dismissed the thought as quickly as it had emerged, remembering that Matt's mind was connected with my own and if I dwelt on the thought to long he would probably know.

But regardless Matt was a really cool guy. When he discovered my addiction to chocolate he went to the fridge and pulled out every chocolate based food item they had. He proceeded to eat it all on my behalf, it wasn't as good as the real thing, more like an aftertaste of chocolate, but it was better than nothing. Equally when we realised that I couldn't pick up anything, and as a result couldn't play two player Mario kart with him, he decided to find a way to overcome that. And that's how we learnt that if we focused incredibly hard then I could sort of inhabit his body, controlling his actions. I realised I'd done it before, in the van making the get away from the jewellery store job. It required immense concentration and Matt wasn't exactly the most focused guy, our connection dropping out on the first dozen attempts.

But he made an effort for me, listened to my stories, laughed at my jokes and payed no mind of the fact that I swore like a sailor. He was the first person in years who I could say honestly cared about me. I would have been quite happy to spend the rest of the day lazing around in his flat but unfortunately, fate had other fucking plans.

…

'So now onto the next item on the list…' My mother said to Mogi's mother.

Mogi, our respective parents, and I sat around in my penthouse apartment. We convened here for wedding preparations not because I was really central to the wedding preparations, in fact it was quite the opposite, I couldn't be less needed if I tried. At the start I'd tried to get involved, help out, have my ideas considered. But I soon discovered that I possessed even less of a talent for planning than I thought, and so I was relegated as an extra in my own production, just there for the occasional symbolic approval when everyone else had reached a decision. It didn't actually mean anything, they just had to ask, being polite I guess.

No, I wasn't needed at all, and the only reason they were meeting at my house and not someone else's was because mine was the biggest and nicest. Benefits of being a movie star. And to be fair the apartment was very nice. It was right in the middle of the city, within walking distance of Setagaya. At night the city would alight with neon lights that danced and glimmered on the glass of my apartment like light on a jewel. It was a view I could never get enough of, some people crave the countryside but not me, I loved the city, the pulse of population, people coursing through streets and subways like blood through veins. And I got to see it every night from here, my apartment. It was a beautiful white palace, filled with marble and glass, taking up the entire top floor of my building. There was certainly something to be said for being famous, when I was little I only dreamed of places like this.

'Misa, do you like the napkin choice?' Someone asked.

'Oh, yeah, sure.' I said, not even knowing what they had been talking about.

Nobody seemed to notice that I hadn't been paying much attention to anything they'd said. That was of course, except for Mogi. He noticed my dazed shock and flashed me a smile and wink. By all conventional means he was attractive. Dark hair, strong features, the most charming voice, and a kind soul. So why couldn't I love him? Why was I leading him on, leading everyone on like this. The simple reason was that I was too afraid to hurt anyone, but by putting it off, I was hurting everyone. Simple as that. I should tell him, break it off now, but I couldn't. It just seemed too… awkward.

This was all on me, the spending, the misleading, the future hurt, and I was here feeling all riled up because I'm awkward.

'Excuse me.' I said, standing. 'I need to use the restroom.'

I made a beeline for the bathroom, ignoring my family and so to be extended family, oh god that's worrying, as much as they were ignoring me. Unfortunately I wasn't quite as inconsequential as I thought, Mogi had stood and intercepted me before I even got close to the door. He pulled me into a tight hug from behind.

'Hey is everything ok?' He asked kindly.

'Yeah I'm good.'

'You seem a bit flustered, is it all this?'

'I'm ok, really.'

'Is it the wedding.'

'Mogi…'

'We can postpone it if it's to much, I know your schedule is busy.'

Postpone it? Could I? Would they do all that for me? What about cancelling it? That would be nice too. No, I couldn't do that, they all wanted this so much. But what about me, I didn't want this, would they be ok with that? I'd be angry if I were them… No, I couldn't ask them to postpone it, I'd just have to come clean before the ceremony.

'I'm fine Mogi, I just need to poop.'

He laughed, releasing me.

'Sorry.'

'It's ok.'

I made for the bathroom again.

'Hey.' He said. 'Love you.'

There was a chorus of cooing from our parents.

'Yeah.' I said. 'Love you too.'

I turned and entered the bathroom. Oh god this is a mess.

…

Mello and I, were in my flat, lounging around, doing nothing in particular. I have to say that he's actually a pretty rad guy, once you get past the unending aggression, overly violent mood swings, and every-fucking-second-to-fucking-third-fucking-word-being-fucking-fuck, he's actually pretty chill. And besides he's a great listener, he's still remotely interested in all my gaming and computers, Neo gave up caring so long ago that I don't think I can actually recall any memory beyond the age of five where she expressed any sort of interest in anything. Having someone like Neo as your best friend makes it easy to forget how great it is having a bro, but Mello is a sweet sweet reminder of that (and no sweet was not a pun on his sweet tooth, although I'll take it anyhow). And also, once you get past the fact that he looks like a male hooker you realise that all that leather is actually pretty hot.

One minute we were in the flat, the next we were in a bathroom that looked more expensive than most peoples houses, I could probably buy thirty of my flat with the money spent on this place. It was polished immaculately, with marble white surfaces and glass that looked like it had never seen a smear. There was a ridiculously grand looking vanity, piled with all sorts of expensive looking creams and mousses, and, of all things, a boring looking electric toothbrush. I think I was a bit like that toothbrush, something so common and plain placed in this fantastical and luxurious world. Mello stood next to me, exactly where he had been in the flat. He mouthed 'wow' silently, clearly impressed by the bathroom, I wonder what the rest of the house was like…

The door was opened, a brief wave of noise flooded in, it had the unmistakeable quality of discussion, familial probably, words rushing around like a bubbling brook. Misa, of all people strode in, I guess this was her house. She ran her hands through her hair absent mindedly and then fixed her hair in the mirror, equally absent mindedly. Her entire demeanour was distraction. Emotions and thoughts crossed over her faces like a movie, there was no attempt to hide them, because there was something far more pressing occupying her attention. Mello glanced at me, I wondered if he'd met her yet, or if this was the first time. I guessed it was the first, although he looked pleasantly surprised at being mentally linked with such an attractive girl. Misa turned on the tap, let water run into her cupped hands, and splashed in on her face. She then stared into the mirror, searching I think for answers to questions that she didn't quite have her head around yet. She would notice any moment now, any moment, there we go. Her eyes drifted onto the reflection of me and Mello.

She spun around quickly, eyes wide with alarm, and knocked a few bottles off the vanity. They hit the floor with a loud crash and smash, which formed a strange melody of madness when mixed with the scream that Misa did her best to stifle. In the end it came out as a strange hacking sound.

 _'What the hell are you doing here?'_ She demanded. _'Where are_ your _clothes?'_ I guess I'd forgotten that I was in my underwear, again, oh well. _'And who the hell is the he?'_

 _'Fucking nice.'_ Mello said bitingly.

There was a concerned knock at the door, yes knocks can have emotions, concerned ones are always a fast set of soft knocks, worry but an unwillingness to needlessly intrude. And these knocks, all four of them, were defiantly concerned.

'Misa, you ok?' A mans voice asked from the other side.

 _'Fine sweetie, don't worry.'_ Misa called back.

She was lying. Not only in saying that she was fine, but also when she called him 'sweetie'. The affection wasn't there, that wasn't to say she didn't care at all, but she was clearly overplaying her feelings for this man. She was doing a good job at hiding it, I suppose that's expected of an actress, but the insincerity was louder than rock-concert from people mentally linked with her. I exchanged another look with Mello, he raised an eyebrow, I nodded, he knew it too.

It was funny, in less than three hours of knowing each other Mello and I had already progress to excessive use of non-verbal communication. That's probably somewhat because of the connection, but not all, I think we just got each other.

'You sure?' The man called. 'We heard a crash.'

 _'I just dropped something that's all.'_ Misa said.

'And then you screamed?' He pushed.

 _'It was expensive.'_

Silence, the man was probably weighing up how much truth there was in her words.

'Ok.' He said, and then wondered away.

She sighed loudly, massaging her temples. She didn't seem and more or less stressed than before, the stress had just changed. Before it had been the immediacy, the man standing outside, people finding out about he connection, thinking she was crazy. Not it was more long term, the thought of something completely unavoidable.

 _'Why me?'_ She groaned.

 _'Rude.'_ Mello snapped.

 _'I'm sorry, I wasn't exactly expecting to find a half-naked man and his male stripper friend in my bathroom.'_ Misa replied in a whispered yell, if such a thing were possible.

 _'I am not a fucking male stripper and if you think that because I'm wearing leather then you're just a prejudicial piece of shit.'_

This was apparently too much for her. She dissolved into tears and sunk to the floor, going from composed to wreckage in a second. Mello didn't look even remotely apologetic, something he and Neo had in common, maybe that's why I got on so easily with him. So it seemed down to me to comfort Misa. I sat next to her and pulled her into a hug, letting her cry on my shoulder like a dutiful boyfriend.

'What's wrong?' I asked. 'You can tell me.'

Mello rolled his eyes, I'm not sure whether it was because of Misa's crying or my awkward attempts to comfort, I was just copying what people did in movies. Apparently it was neither, he mouthed 'get in there' to me. Did I think I was that fucking low? Really? I pulled a face back at him, he shrugged indifferently.

 _'I-I'm…'_ Misa hiccuped. _'Getting married to a man I don't love.'_

 _'Shit.'_ Mello said.

'Damn.' I commented.

Apparently this wasn't the right things to say as Misa started crying all over again, tears rolling down her perfect face, painted there by her emotions. I pulled her a little tighter, really I was quite a bit out of my element, Neo never required this much effort and no one else in my life was important enough to warrant it. I knew my hug was awkward, all funny angles and tense muscles, but I think she appreciated it either way.

 _'I just don't know what to do.'_ She mumbled. _'I tried to make myself love him, I really did, but I just can't.'_

She sobbed a bit more, trying to keep it quiet so as not to alert anyone in the room beyond. I went to pat her comfortingly, then realised that it would come off as condescending and thought better of it.

'It'll work out.' I said. 'We'll think of something.'

 _'I just wish, he was more like… more like-'_

 _'Hello?'_

Misa was cut off by another voice. Mello, Misa, and I all looked to see who it was, the answer was a woman in a black jacket, white long black hair, looking severe and determined.

 _'Who… who are you?'_ Misa asked.

The lady walked up to us, assessing the strange trio that we formed. Misa, dressed in a lacer-black gothic dress, mascara tears from the crying. Me, still dressed only in my underwear, uncomfortably hugging her. Mello, all tight leather, looking incredibly bored. Whatever thoughts she may have had she kept to herself, the urgency in her actions became immediately apparent to the three of us.

 _'It's unimportant.'_ The woman said.

 _'Like fuck it is.'_ Mello said. _'Wait, no, you're the woman from the car! Saint Naomi.'_

'Saint?' I asked.

Naomi ignored him and powered onwards, driven by fear of something inevitable. What that something was I couldn't tell.

 _'Someone is in danger.'_ She said.

 _'Why the fuck should I care?'_ Mello retorted.

 _'He's part of our cell.'_

'Cell?' I interjected.

She checked her watch impatiently, there were things she'd obviously rather do than explain everything she said, but she also knew that she'd have to if she wanted any cooperation from us.

 _'The cell is made up of people we're naturally linked too. All four of us are in the same cell.'_

'Oh.' I said.

'Huh?' Misa said.

'So there person whose in danger is linked to us?' I asked.

 _'Yes.'_

'Who?'

 _'Nate.'_

'Nate?' Three of asked together.

She nodded grimly.

 _'Nate, Near, whatever you want to call him, the kid with the white hair.'_

'Kid?' I said. 'A kid is in danger?'

 _'How serious?'_ Mello asked, his entire demeanour changing, he was no longer standoffish but engaged, worried even. I suppose even he had a heart.

 _'Life threatening.'_ Naomi said.

Misa, Mello, and I stood together, an unspoken agreement to do whatever it took to save him passing between us. There are some things that are just mutually understood, and saving a kids life is really just one of those things, you'd have to be pretty fucked for it not to be. I don't think any of us even really knew who this kid was, I'd seen flashes of him only, just sitting on the floor surrounded by toys, never saying a word. Saving Near, Nate, Oprah, White-Hair McPhee, whatever the hell he was called, was suddenly the only thing that mattered. It wasn't a question of whether we could do anything, or if we should, or if we could even succeed. We had to do something, and we had to succeed.

'How long do we have?' I asked.

Naomi checked her watch again.

 _'Fifteen minutes.'_

…

They'd strapped me down to a bed, my arms and legs held in place by thick leather straps. What little hope, belief in salvation, drained with each passing second. How could I escape? How could anyone help me escape? The clock on the wall read 5:50 and the operation was scheduled for 6:00. There was minutes only before soon I would be dragged under by a sedative. I'd fall into an inky and dreamless sleep from which I would never awake. The Doctor Kida and his two nurses milled around me, all sterile and inhuman.

 _'Near.'_

What? I looked around. Standing beside the bed was Naomi, a boy with straw blonde hair, an Asian, probably Japanese girl, and a maroon haired, goggle warring boy in his underwear. Not exactly what I'd been expecting, but maybe they could help me, maybe there was something they could do.

 _'Near.'_ The blonde girl said. _'There's nothing we can do. I'm so sorry.'_

She seemed so sincere, it couldn't be an act. Her eyes began to brim with tears, as if bring a level of finality to it all. I was really going to die, there was nothing I could do. I looked at Naomi, she just shook her head.

My heart beat increased rapidly, I didn't want to die. It seemed cliche, but I was too young to die, I'd barely been allowed to live. I wanted to breathe the fresh air one more time, see a picture of my parents again, be allowed to play with my toys, see Linda, or anyone. I didn't want to die, not here, not alone.

I tried pulled against the restraints but there was no give at all, the large iron locks on the ridiculously thick leather holding me in place. One of the nurses stuck a drip into my arm, how far were they willing to go with this facade? Would they keep pretending they weren't killing me until I was unconscious? It seemed pathetic, inhuman, I was a child? How could they do this? The other nurse approached with a plastic oxygen mask and placed it over my face, forcing me to breathe in the weird smelling air.

 _'I'm so sorry.'_ Naomi said.

Doctor Kida and the nurses walked into another room to get the real equipment for the operation, leaving me here to take in breath after breath of the sedative. All of a sudden I felt very sluggish, my mind slowed. I knew I had to fight, but I couldn't remember why, what was so worth fighting for? A heavy blackness wrapped itself around me, dragging me downwards.

…

I'd set the internet ablaze with my comments on the news. Within an hour, a hundred news websites and discussion forums were fanning that flame, it wasn't just a fire now, it was a firestorm. Within two hours those websites had increased tenfold, #SheddingLight was trending on twitter and there was an immediate call to have the bill recalled.

And while all this was happening, I couldn't sleep. Every time I tried to shut my eyes my mind would fire off a thousand questions, I'd realise that I hadn't checked 'The Sun' website. Then I'd be sitting up in bed, my phone lighting up the dark room, trawling through another article that was either praising me for 'speaking the truth people were afraid to say' or hating me for 'taking another easy swing at the right wing'. In the end I'd given up on trying to sleep altogether and decided to put my time to better use than sitting around reading people have opinions about my opinions and then people having opinion about the opinions about my opinions and so on. I tried to talk to L, but I couldn't make a connection, so he was probably asleep.

That was a pity, I really did want to talk to him. He seemed to interning and intelligent. His mind was a snowstorm of ideas, each thought a distinctive snowflake, but only tiny pieces of the greater whole that seemed to be his mind. I wanted to get close to that mind, intimately so. I wanted to know every idea, every thought, on anything. I knew that no matter what it was L would have some way of looking at it that I'd never considered. He was the kind of guy that had an opinion about grass, and not only that, but and intelligent opinion, something that went beyond 'I hate mowing it' or 'real is always better than fake'.

But L was unavailable so instead I opted for something practical. I dressed myself, and went down the road to do my grocery shopping. The store was ghostly. The night staff wondered around in a half daze stacking shelves and groaning, there was occasionally another insomniac customer like me. But considering that New York is meant to be the city that never sleeps, there seemed to be an awful lot of people who were doing a poor job at being awake.

'Hey.' A voice called. 'You Light Yagami.'

A looked to see who it has called. It was a man, a quite frankly gorgeous man. His features were that of the perfect Spartan, muscular but lean, a hard chiseled jaw and piercing grey eyes. He had a slight bit of stubble on his chin and his long dark hair pulled back into a pony tail. Not a man bun, but a pony tail.

'Yeah, that's me.' I said, mustering my most charming smile.

I hoped that a combination of my fame, good looks, and affability would be enough. This guy was hot in every way, and I certainly wouldn't mind taking back home with me. I wasn't going to get sleep tonight anyway. There was the small issue of him not being gay, but all I needed was just the slightest bit of curiosity, I could take the rest from there.

'Ralph.' He said offering me a hand. 'Ralph Ramone.'

Nice name. I felt like I knew it from somewhere, couldn't quite place it, but that didn't really matter.

'I saw the broadcast tonight.'

Good good, hopefully he was a Liberal who agreed with my views, that would make this even easier. A sudden wave of exhaustion hit me, all I wanted was to be in bed. My eyelids became quite heavy and keeping them open was quite an effort. There was a scent in the air, kind of like chloroform, all heavy feeling. Maybe I could just settle for his number instead.

'Yeah, and what did you think?' I asked.

My legs gave way. I don't know why it happened, one minute I was standing the next I was so unbelievably tired that they just gave way from under me. I head someone shout 'Holy Shit' quite loudly, or at least I think it was loudly, but the smells, sounds, pain from hitting the floor all seemed distant, inconsequential. My mind, my thoughts felt sedated and slow, all I wanted was to go to sleep.

…

When Near had fallen asleep we were thrown back into Misa's bathroom, the operation theatre vanishing in an instant and being replace with the expansive looking whites. Naomi and Misa were already in action, Mello and I would play our parts soon enough. Miss had pulled a large first-aid box out from her vanity and was sorting around through it's contents for the what we required.

 _'I feel so bad.'_ She said. _'The look on his face was awful. I can't believe I had to lie to him like that.'_

'You're an actress, you were the best on for the job.' I said.

 _'Exactly.'_ Naomi agreed. _'We had to get him to such a high stress level that inhabiting would be easy.'_

Misa nodded, she knew that we were right, that it was a necessary part of saving his life, but that consolation only could do so much. And she was right, the look on Near's face had been awful, sheer terror, the look of someone whose defeated and futureless.

Misa pulled out a syringe from her first aid kit and filled it with adrenaline, Mello sat down with her, ready to guide her through the next part. They both knew that not only were we on a clock but we'd only get one shot at this. If they failed this crucial step than Near was a goner, dead, poof, another angel in the choir.

 _'Ok.'_ He commanded. _'Focus on Near. Lets start with something easy. Is it hot or cold in the hospital?'_

Misa scrunched her face in concentration. It was adorable, an expression not all that dissimilar to a five year old trying to get their head around the concept of addition.

 _'Neither.'_ She replied. _'Its not hot or cold. The temperature os somewhere in between.'_

Mello smiled, clearly this was the right answer. He was by far the most adept at using the connection this way. If he'd access to adrenaline he would have been in Misa's place, but the fact of the matter was he didn't so he had to guide her instead.

 _'Good.'_ Mello said. _'Lets try Near's sense's. What can you feel, does he have any aches or pains, an itchy leg maybe?'_

 _'Nothing. It's all numb.'_

'Probably the sedative.' I whispered to Naomi.

She gave me a disappointed look, much like of a mother with a disobedient child. I really probably should have been taking this more seriously.

 _'Ok.'_ Mello said. _'Keep that focus on Near. Get ready.'_

Misa nodded, lined the syringe up with her arm.

 _'Ok… now.'_ Mello said.

Misa jabbed the syringe into her arm, gasped loudly as the adrenaline kicked in. The effect was immediate, which was good. It went straight through her, I could feel how nauseous it made her. A moment later she was bent double over the toilet throwing up quite violently. Misa was graceful in everything she did but even she found it hard to be graceful whilst vomiting. Still, she had done her part, and that's all we could ask.

…

I gasped into consciousness. It was like waking up from a nightmare, my entire body went into overdrive. I tried to sit up but was held back by the restraints. After a moment I slid back down. I was awake? I was alive? How? What was going on? My heart was still racing, my life was still in danger, there was nothing anyone could do for me.

The operating theatre was empty, Doctor Kida and his associates must be next door doing final preparations. I'd been given a small reprieve it seemed, a minute of two of awareness. Something had pulled me from the land of the dead back to the land of the living. I had to save myself somehow, but I was strapped down, there was nothing to do.

 _'Near, open your mind.'_

I turned, Naomi, the leather clad boy and the one with red hair were standing there.

'Near.' I said, panicking, begging for them to do something.

 _'Near, open your mind…'_ Naomi repeated.

The panic was overwhelming me now, there was nothing they could do, there was nothing I could do, I was trapped, I was still going to die. I was still going to die!

'Near!' I screamed.

…

 _'Near!'_ He screamed, his panic reaching a crux.

The next minute I was lying on the operating table, right where he had been a moment ago. A drip was in my arm, the heart rate monitor dropping from the erratic and rapid beat of Near's heart to a much slower and calmer pace, the pace my heart must have been going at.

Mello and Matt watched on silently, both too tense to be capable of saying anything.

Ok Naomi, think, you have a minute at the absolute most, how are you going to get out, what is the immediate obstacle? Answer: these straps holding me in place. How do I overcome them? They're locked. I can pick locks. I need an implement. The drip.

I gripped on the rubber tubbing of the drip feed and pulled on it, hard, or as hard as I could when I only had wrist movement. But it was enough. It came out, pricking painfully, but that didn't matter, because on one end was exactly what I needed. A small spike of thin metal, not all dissimilar to a needle. I manoeuvred the metal into the lock and began to twist and turn it.

My Dad may not have been good for much, but his near abusive negligence as a parent had at least blessed me with this little skill. I wasn't going to thank him for it, or even be grateful, but I was saving a life with it, so that counts for something I guess.

Click.

The lock came open, one arm free. I quickly dispatched the other three leather straps, freeing myself, freeing Near. I stood, forgetting I was in Near's body, and getting quite a shock when I realised just how short he was. When looking through his eyes I could barely see over the operating table.

No matter. Time to go.

The door from the adjacent room opened, the Doctor and his two nurses came in. No matter, I can deal with them I reached for my gun, only to realise that I wasn't there…

Shit.

I looked over at Mello.

…

 _'Shit.'_

Naomi, in Near's body, looked over at me. She'd reached for her gun only to find it wasn't there.

The next moment I was on the other side of the room, and everything was a good foot and a half taller than before. Then I realised, it wasn't taller, I was shorter. Naomi was now standing next to Matt, on the opposite side to where I had been a moment earlier. I must be in Near's body now.

'How did you get out of bed?' The Doctor shouted.

Shit. Fuck. Fucking Shit. Fuck this shit. This shit is fucked. What kind of people try kill a child anyway? That fucking low. I've run into some pretty low people, but this is just about as low as it fucking gets, on the same level of skinning puppies. But I won't have any hesitation in fucking them up either. I looked around, the heart rate monitor was on a stand on wheels, I could pick that up and hit them with it, and there was also a lot of shiny and sharp implements on a trolley. Fucking perfect.

The first nurse approached, hands outstretched ready to try and fucking manhandle me. I let them get closer, closer, closer, then at the last second seized the scalpel on the trolley and shoved it deep into their stomach. The nurse let out a muffled grunt, and looked down, still not quite registering what I had just done to them.

While he stood there dazed I grabbed his arm, swung him around and threw him into the second nurse. It took all of the strength that I could muster using Near's slight form, but I managed. As the two nurses fell to the ground I kicked the trolley, sending it flying across the room and careening into the Doctors legs. As the Doctor hit the floor, I returned my attention to the nurses. I pinned the unstained one to the ground and laid a trio of punches onto his faces, one, two, three braking his fucking nose with a sickening snap. I then moved onto the nurse I'd already stabbed, who was writhing around in shock, a deep red stain growing like a cancer. I pulled out the scalpel, gave him a single throat punch to keep him down and stood. The Doctor was coming back for a fucking second round, his mistake. I intercepted him and slashed his eye. He fell back to the ground screaming.

Naomi and Matt both blanched at my ruthless display.

 _'Fuck.'_ Matt whispered.

I ignored them and made for the door. My, Nears, hand slipped on the handle. I looked down at the kids shade-above-translucent skin. The hand was covered in blood. When had that happened? Who gave a fuck? I wiped my, Nears, hands on the sleeve of his perfect white shirt and had a second go at the door, opening it.

I was captured in a hug from a little girl, she came at me so quickly that I nearly attacked her too. But I realised just in time that she was friendly.

'Near!' She said, almost sobbing from happiness. 'You're ok, I heard screaming and-'

She looked over my shoulder at the carnage I had created and gasped.

'Near…'

'Get the fuck off me, we have to get out of here.' I snapped, pushing her off.

'Near, you're talking!'

'Fuck girl, I'm not Near. I'm just controlling him.'

She took in all this information in attentive silence.

'I'm leaving.' I said. Why I was wasting my fucking time telling her this I don't know. But she seemed kind, and also appeared to be a prisoner, so maybe I had subconsciously decided she deserved a chance. 'If you want to come with us then you have to keep up, I'm not holding your fucking hand.'

'Right.' She replied. 'How are we getting out?'

'The front door.'

I turned to leave. We'd agreed that in a multi-story facility like this the stairwell was the safer way to get down to the ground floor. I searched around for exit signs and the like, there was one at the end of the hall, and there appeared to be no one in the way. This entire place is fucking empty now that I think about it, fucking creepy, like a horror novel.

'Wait.' She said.

'Fuck, what?' I demanded, I'd already wasted to much time on her.

 _'Jesus Mel's.'_ Matt said. 'Mels' were we already at the fondest fucking nicknames stage? He moves quickly, but I suppose thats to be expected from someone who doesn't mind strangers seeing him half-naked. _'She's just a kid, take it easy.'_

But despite his concern this girl seemed fine. In fact she sighed and shook her head, fuck she's going to be one of those 'empowered by confidence' bitches when she's older.

'We can't walk out the front if there's bloodstains on your shirt.'

 _'She's right.'_ Naomi said.

'Thank you.' The girl said.

 _'You can see me?'_ Naomi asked, surprised.

The girl just nodded, a proud little grin on her moon shaped face. As she nodded her hair bounced in a kind of cutsy way, completely out of place in the fucking freak show that was this hospital or whatever the hell it was.

'I can see both of you.' She said

 _'Impressive.'_ Naomi said.

'Fuck, whatever.' I said over the top of them. 'Where are there spare shirts?'

She led me back to their room, a sterile white place with some of the most uncomfortable looking beds I'd seen. I changed shirts, this Near kid appeared to own twenty fucking pairs of the same white pyjamas so the choices were bloody endless. Meanwhile the girl, Linda she said her name was, scurried around the room throwing a few items into a makeshift bag, her sketchbook, spare sets of clothes for both of them, and a few of Near's favourite toys. Within a minute we were ready to go and set off, Naomi and Matt following via mental link. We bound through the halls, down twenty stairs two steps at a time, Near's stupidly small legs couldn't manage any more than that.

We stopped just round the corner from the front lobby, the clacking of a bored receptionists fingers over a keyboard audible.

'Wait.' Linda said. 'They have a lock both in and out, we need a code or someone to buzz it for us.'

 _'We thought as much.'_ Naomi said.

 _'That's why I'm here.'_ Matt said with a smug little grin.

His dramatic moment was kind of ruined by the fact that he was still in goggles and fucking underwear, but whatever, if it made him happy than who was I to judge. Actually, it was perfectly within my right to judge, I had to watch him walk around like that, didn't he own any clean clothes? The state of his apartment floor answered that question, I'm pretty sure there was a carpet beneath all the scattered dirty clothes, I mean I'm homeless and I make more of an effort than him.

Fuck this really isn't the time.

Just let Matt do his thing, I'll complain afterwards. But boy will I fucking complain

…

'Ok.' I said, blinking quickly, adjusting to seeing through Near's eyes. 'Follow my lead.'

Linda nodded, of the three of us rescuers I think she was the least certain about me, which when I think about it is kind of fair. I mean I didn't really make an effort to dress appropriately for the rescue, or dress at all, and I was still feeling a little bloated from all the chocolate I ate on Mello's behalf, not to mention I could really go for a drink or eight.

Either way I was responsible for the last leg of this operation.

I was the one with all the hacking talent, if anyone could get us through reception, passed the locked door and out into freedom it was probably me, assuming I wasn't baked, which I'm not. At least not much. I strode across reception trying to look as confident as I could, half the battle is won just through confidence. The other half is won through careful planning, practice, and sheer dumb luck. We hadn't had the time to plan properly, there'd certainly been no time to practice, and I was far from the luckiest human on the planet. My broken devices, stains on clothing, lost pets, three evictions, dead family, and missing items are a testament to that.

And then of course there was the hex.

Yeah, just that small little curse that had apparently I'd been born with.

But you know, I'm not superstitious, so it's totally not real. It's just all the effects are.

The only aspect of my life that seemed immune to the not-real-but-totally-present-hex was Neo, and she claims she's a witch. She's kidding about that… I think. But if she was then it would explain why she never seems effected. I mean she's alive so she's already leagues ahead of everyone else.

Still, as I strode across reception, Linda tailing, it seemed that maybe this would go well.

'Hey.' The receptionist called. 'Are you allowed to be alone?'

Crap. I sped up a bit, trying to get to the door a bit quicker. This was the wrong move, as it only seemed to confirm the receptionists suspicions. She picked up her phone and started making calls. We'd been hoping that we could give Near a few minutes, just a little extra time to go into hiding once he was out, but that didn't seem like it was going to happen.

Great going Matt. 10/10 for effort. -20/10 for execution.

'Stop.' The receptionist called.

 _'Fuck…'_ Mello groaned.

I bolted now. Linda sprinted after me. We reached the door, there was a little panel with an alphanumeric keyboard and a ten key code requirement. It wasn't standard, that's for sure. This was on the higher end of security, and they had it going in and out as well…

 _'How're you going to hack this.'_ Naomi asked.

'I can't.' I replied. 'I don't have the right gear.'

 _'Well shit._ ' Mello said. _'What now?'_

'Calm down.' I said. 'There's an easy way around this.'

 _'Well hurry the fuck up and do it you shit.'_ Mello said.

'Ok, ok.' I said.

The way around is actually ridiculously simple. In the event of an emergency they need unobstructed entry and exit, which meant that in certain situations the doors would automatically unlock. It didn't matter how state of the art your tech is, human need for self-preservation will always get in the way. Like now for example, when I press this fire alarm. The sprinklers go off, the fire department is automatically rung, alarms ring, and the doors unlock. Because people are selfish, and any attempt at security goes out the window the moment they might be in danger.

I pressed the fire alarm

The sprinklers went off.

The door unlocked.

Linda and I walked straight out.

…

I felt like I was waking up from a strange sleep.

It was cold here, and windy. Last I'd remembered I was still in the operating theatre, awake, but still trapped. And now? Now I was… outside, in the centre of a busy St. Petersburg. Bleak Russian skies extended as far as my eye could see, all monotonous and grey, but it had never looked so vibrant to me.

I took in a breath of air that was so cold I thought it would freeze burn my insides. But that air, that sweet, carbon-polluted, air. It was free air. For the first time in what felt like a lifetime I wasn't seeing the sky from behind thick windows, trapped in white rooms. This place wasn't monotonous at all. The sky was grey, some buildings were brown, the snow was white… the snow.

I let some land on my hand, how long had it been since I'd felt snow. It still seemed as marvellous to me as when I had been little.

 _'You have to go into hiding.'_ Naomi said to me.

Linda and I nodded, I was glad to see that they had saved her too.

 _'We'll check in on you, help you as much as we can.'_ She continued. _'But for a little you'll have to cope by yourselves. Now go.'_

We didn't need to be told twice. I cast one last look back at my cage, 'The Charity Institute'. A moment later we had bound down the front stairs and were running down the streets, two birds set free. She laughed, for the first time since I'd met her. It was… happy, it made her face glow. And then a moment later I found myself laughing. It was contagious, soon I couldn't stop, it was euphoria.

It wouldn't last for long, I think we both knew that. But reality hadn't set in yet, and for these moments the world never seemed brighter.

 **To Be Continued**

* * *

 _A/N: God this chapter turned out stupidly long but Near is free! Hooray! Not entirely out of the woods but certainly on his way! I'm sorry for those wanting to see more Light and L after the last chapter, I was going to include some, but after I saw how long everything else was I had to cut it (I also had to cut the Kiyomi parts, but I don't think you guys mind that much, I certainly don't she's my least favourite of the eight main characters tbh). But rest assured there will be more L and Light in the next chapter ;) But either way I was quite happy with how this all turned out, I tried to drop bits and pieces about different characters along the way, so we can build a better picture of who they all are and their pasts! Anyway, Please leave a review with thoughts, feedback, or the like, and stay tuned!_


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